


Rebirth and Rebellion

by Scampercat101



Category: Bionicle - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M, MN and Teri were not actually “brothers”, Matoro is revived, Multi, Red Star stuff, They were mates instead but people didn’t know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2019-08-29 02:07:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16734996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scampercat101/pseuds/Scampercat101
Summary: Matoro did not expect there to be anything after his sacrifice. Yet here he was, floating in the waterfall. Before he knew it, he was whisked away, and he saw events unfold before him. Perhaps fate had something left for him to do...Cover art presented in Chapter 1 is by the lovely Yt-Kingsidorak of DeviantArt!





	1. Awakened, Awarded

**Author's Note:**

> You may want to read the short work I posted about background headcanons, in case some tangential comment gets confusing.  
> I hope you all enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to thank YT-Kingsidorak on deviantART for making a lovely cover image for this fic!

 

It was still, for a few minutes after he put on the Ignika. Still, and… calm. The golden light of his death - his sacrifice - was dissipating around him, like embers from a campfire floating off to vanish in the impenetrable darkness of the night, and he had long since stopped feeling the cold rush of the waterfall past his hovering form.

That was strange. Did he actually still _have_ a form? He couldn’t move to look, but he felt… centered. He looked through the water at the flashes of strange lightning and blaster fire whirring through the air beyond it. Something strange must have been happening, or something grand.

His “center” abruptly gave an immense LURCH upwards, bursting through the wall of water with a vengeful hiss of steam, pulling him with it. He felt small - _surely that waterfall wasn’t that wide before_?! - and all he could do was hold on for dear life, or dear afterlife perhaps, as fate pulled him away to who-knows-where.

Tunnels whizzed past, too many to count, too many turns to memorize, brief flashes of color drawing glances from him before they were gone again. Then there were no more tunnels, only a straight shot into the sky, closer to the heavens until he realized the truth of the world that had held his life within it. They were in a dome, small enough that he must have seen several in his travels without ever realizing it. His Spirit Star loomed closer, closer, collision with him imminent until it was achieved with immense force and a shower of white sparks, the star extinguished. Then there were chutes in the dome, opening, closing, bringing him higher, until he was out. He could see it now, the prone body of his old world - a behemoth, its silhouette like the one he had seen imprinted in the mask that had taken his offered life. He stared at it, amazed, reeling from all he was learning, unaware now that he was being carried elsewhere.

Then, after what felt like an eternity of travel, it was _alive_.

It was awakening, rising to its feet, and he watched as his former home of Mata Nui fell away from its face - from the face of the island’s namesake. The Great Spirit was trembling. Was he joyful? Overwhelmed? He caught the briefest glimpse of the shake of a head before the eyes of the colossus went dark, then crimson. Makuta’s plots had run deeper than he had ever feared.

A golden comet shot out of its chest - a streak of metal that he was all too familiar with chasing. For once, after all those times of chasing it himself, the Ignika’s ability to flee was something he felt he could appreciate. The crimson-eyed behemoth soon followed it, only to be met with a smaller counterpart, the golden eyes once more aglow, and they fought until the moons plummeted and served one of them with defeat.

He felt relieved. His friends could be alright, whatever might have been going on.

He focused back on his own travels and saw the Red Star looming before him, closer with each moment as if it approached to consume him. He was pulled in, rushing through the glaring red of the exterior, darting through a thick wall of mechanical components and parts. The noises around him were deafening: loud tones and jarring whirrs and clickings, too much to handle all at once…!

Abruptly, the quiet was back, and he found himself at rest. He was in an enormous brazier, in a fire of every color imaginable. There were voices around him, murmuring faintly.

“Where…?”

“Why…?”

“What…?”

“Died….?”

“Fire…?”

“Who…?”

“How…?”

He wasn’t alone here! He could see vague figures in the many small parts of the fire around him. He heard snippets of treespeak from a green flame not far away, a calming female voice from a blue flame next to him. They were souls, brought here just like he was.

_But why?_

An enormous limb swept through the fire, causing everyone to gasp and stir into a frenzy before a single one of them was plucked out and carried off. While many skittered back and forth within the area of confinement, he moved to the edge of the great brazier, seeking to watch and find out what these creatures intended to do with them. He witnessed what he believed to be a miracle and a curse in the same instant.

There were bodies everywhere in the strange, red-saturated realm where they had arrived. Some with limbs torn away from battle, or gouged brutally, others showing the kinds of poor health one would expect more in peacetime. The taken soul was brought to one that seemed whole and unharmed save for scars and fresh armor welds, and lowered into the open heartlight. In an instant the body sat upright, looking alive and alert as if it had never laid lifeless on the bench, and the creatures that had taken the soul and were repairing the bodies forcefully escorted the freshly-revived fellow away.

The Toa-soul heard more conflicted murmuring from those around and behind him. Many felt that perhaps this meant they could reunite with their families, but many, many more doubted the idea; they had no clue where that revived Matoran had been taken, or what would happen to him, and he seemed fearful of the creatures’ reach based on some kind of experience, rather than his uncertainty. Suddenly, one voice was heard above the others, hushed, exhausted, and fearful: “They are the Kestora. They have always resided within this place. They are meant to revive us to our former selves, to reunite us with the society death tore us from. But for decades, if not centuries now, they have not sent us back! They have simply dismantled us over and over again to be rebuilt without end, and the pain is maddening _every time_ …!”

The souls stirred into a frightened frenzy at that, but the Toa-soul felt himself turn to face and focus on the nearest “Kestora”. Had he possessed his face and mask of old, he would have been glaring fiercely at them, armor bristled in anger, teeth gritted. He felt familiarity with situations like this, and his consciousness replayed early memories of the great journey that had led to his death. He and others had come upon a land of chaos far worse than this crimson-bathed star, and that had not been enough to stop them then. That day, the great Karzahni had learned not to doubt the will of a certain Matoran from Ko-Metru.

Matoro felt it was time to prove his will once more.

Sparks skittered off of the bright white flame at the edge of the brazier, the soul hissing and spitting out its embers as it seemed to grow rough and unpredictable. A Kestora approached the great congregation of flames, attracted by the strange behavior or possibly seeking to take another soul to its body. Without knowing he was capable of it, driven by his own wrath over the injustice laid out before him, Matoro’s soul _lunged_.

_SHREeeee!_ There was a puff of more sparks as the Toa’s flame, now showing a hidden streak of gold within its pale core, rushed through the air and made impact against the face of the first Kestora. The servant of the Star went tumbling back clumsily as Matoro simply rebounded back to land in his previous spot in the brazier, a shrill hiss escaping it at the indignity. Those waiting in the brazier watched as the Kestora staggered back to its feet slowly, snarling viciously. The sounds of the other Kestora repairing the bodies of the deceased quieted, then ended altogether as they noticed what had happened to their comrade; many began to gather closer to the fire, watching with great wariness the aggressive soul that was perched at its edge. Clearly a single lesson had not been enough to set their priorities and morals straight, if their glares were anything to go by.

Matoro felt himself faintly connected to some deeper power, centered elsewhere, far beyond the Star’s field. It urged him to bring _life_ , to bring _prosperity_ , and he welcomed it, the sparks dancing and jumping from his form turning a brilliant gold. His thoughts turned to his friends, those same friends that drew the focus of his thoughts during what he had been certain were his final moments. He needed to be able to help them again, to make sure they were safe; if they had not survived the grand clash that he had watched on the planet’s surface, he shuddered to imagine them finding themselves trapped in the ruby prison that held him now. He refused to let them be dismantled, to be forced to die again and again.

His flame lunged once more, and this time the impact was to the center of the Kestora’s chest. He felt a barrier before him, preventing it from understanding the source of his anger and leaving it only able to see him as an out-of-sorts part of the system to be ironed out. But soon, that barrier fell away and the consciousness of the Kestora grew brighter, the sense of autopiloted action falling away. It was Awakened by some amount, able to see the moral reasoning behind the situation: it was harming and terrifying its “patients” when disassembling them, making them reluctant to be “revived” again, and they had to consider the mental health of those they revived, not just the physical condition of the bodies that teleported in. However, having only one Kestora aware of the situation would do no good; at a pace that could have made Umbra jealous, he darted from Kestora to Kestora, knocking them off their feet and leaving them reeling under the influence of their new moral awareness. Throughout the entirety of the Star he darted, until there were no more Kestora holding the mindset that disassembly for later reassembly was acceptable.

The Star had gone quiet.

As Matoro finally circled back around to his unfilled position in the brazier, he could hear the ember-snap-mutterings and hissing whispers of the other souls again. They carefully moved closer to him, many cautious and just as many awed. The Kestora, as they regained their footing, kept their strange eyes locked on to him, but seemed nervous to approach, occasionally glancing to each other as if expecting some individual of their number to make the first move.

He wanted to be certain they fully understood what he had shown them needed doing. He made a mock-lunge at them, rushing at the rim of the brazier, and knew they held no intent to defy his reprimand as he saw many fall back again with their limbs flailing, before scrabbling away, heads low, rebuked.

_Now they are ready to listen_.

He darted out of the brazier to rest by one of the incomplete bodies that lay on a workbench, waiting until all of the Kestora had properly refocused on them. Then he darted to nearby diagrams of completed bodies, making repeated impacts against the walls the diagrams were taped or pinned to: _this_ was the way the bodies should be allowed to stay, unharmed and alive. He saw the Kestora flare their armor in surprised understanding, their eyes wide, and he watched as they began to reassemble all of the fragmented bodies. He moved more gently now, skittering across the equipment in a slower stroll toward each Kestora, then resting against their heartlights to sense if they understood what _not_ to do. Every one made it clear the message had reached them properly, and he finally returned to his spot in the brazier, tired out as his sparks subsided and the gold streak in his flame was once more tucked away. He let himself regain his energy as he stayed close to the energized crystals placed in the brazier - he could see that the Kestora would “recharge” the crystals on some wired machine, covered in iconography of suns and their rays of light. Perhaps they solar-charged the crystals.

As he felt his flame crackle with renewed energy, he turned his focus to the distant power that he had felt and been compelled to use. He could feel a faint tugging from it, leaving him with a sense of its direction. The pull seemed aimed with utter certainty at the planet the moons had fallen to meet, where the colossi he had seen had fought. He blocked out any sense of the Red Star and his surroundings as if he were closing his eyes to meditate. The color of gold reached out to his mind first. Then, the color took on a blurred form, glinting and slowly rotating in the empty expanse of his mind’s eye. Just a little more, and it would become clear…!

He saw the Ignika, floating in an empty expanse of space. It lazily drifted down to rest upon a pedestal in some guarded chamber, but many had visited it here; it was in some form of temple, rather than in the maze of challenges and caves Matoro and his team had once needed to venture into while seeking it. Blue light gathered behind the gaps that would have facilitated the wearer’s sight, and he realized he was directly linked to Mata Nui himself.

_Why did you connect me to you…?_

Mata Nui’s spirit-formed eyes blinked, the Great Spirit apparently heavily taken aback by the question. _What do you mean...?_ He blinked again, seemingly realizing something. _You… I recognize your spirit. You’re the one who last put on this mask to save me, aren’t you_?

Matoro tried to nod - then realized the connection might not provide a means for that, and settled for verbal confirmation instead. _Yes… my name is Matoro._

_I’m sorry that you needed to do that for my sake. I truly am._ Matoro could hear the remorse and guilt all but dripping off of Mata Nui’s words. _But for you to be able to contact me… where are you now…?_

_The “Red Star” - if I’m understanding things right, it’s the same one that was always marked as part of prophetic constellations, and the same one that initially transformed myself and my team into Toa._ The Toa thought back to what he had experienced and learned since arriving there. _I never knew that it was a revival system like this, though_ … _I’d thought that once your mask took my life I would simply be… gone._

_To be honest, I had thought the same, from what I’d read of the process. Unless I misinterpreted…_ The Great Spirit suddenly came to a realization. _Wait… did you see any sign that the Kestora were making a body for you…?_

Matoro thought back, and suddenly felt a cold, leaden weight of dismay settle into his spiritual gut. _I didn’t see my body anywhere in the Star… and the Kestora I Awakened didn’t seem to know who I was, like they hadn’t received any prerogative to revive me…! Every other soul that’s in the fire was paired with knowledge the Kestora had of how to repair their body, and who they were. But when they thought of me, their minds were… confused. They didn’t… they don’t… know who I am…?!_

_Without your body… they can’t revive you…!_ Mata Nui seemed equally disheartened. _If I had known you would have to stay in that fire the whole time like this…_

_What do you mean, “If you had known”...?_

Mata Nui’s end of the connection gave a lurch, as if he hadn’t meant to say that, and Matoro suddenly noticed an oddity of the image he saw of the Ignika in his mind’s eye. Its shadow was a deep shade of black, and almost seemed to _breathe_ . He focused on that shadow, and flinched mentally as he saw the faintest pair of red lines in it - closed, resting eyes, their corners furrowed with exhaustion and emotional turmoil beyond measure. _Is that_ …?

_...Teridax._ Mata Nui confirmed his worries. _But he isn’t going to hurt anyone… he never wished to hurt anyone, least of all me._

_What?!_ Matoro was certain he wasn’t hearing this right. _What do you mean?! He threatened your life, nearly ended it!_

There was a long silence from Mata Nui’s end, and as he watched, the shadow - Teridax - moved closer to the Ignika, as if seeking comfort from its presence and light. Finally, the Great Spirit found what he considered to be the optimal answer. _You and your fellows always said that we were “brothers”, simply because of how close we seemed. But we were not siblings by blood, and our closeness was due to… a different type of relationship. We were lifemates. Some of the Great Beings who made us, a scarce few, wanted us to simply stay as we were, in our starting forms… a Makuta and a Toa of Life. They saw we were happiest that way, and hoped to find a way to make it work. But unfortunately, the majority…_ and here his eyes grew dim with the sorrow of the memory, _insisted on there being no deviation from their carefully laid-out plan. One of the ones who refused to deviate may have a name you know already… Velika._

Matoro was reeling yet again. _Velika?! The Po-Matoran from the Voya Nui Resistance? But that can’t be! He’s… he’s just a Matoran!_

_I believe the Toa Mata said the same thing about Teridax when they first encountered him in person_ , Mata Nui replied with a hint of wry amusement, before he regained his serious tone. _He and others came after me one day and hauled me off to have my mind, and my consciousness, copied to that of the robot in which the universe would be housed. Teridax had only planned to step out from where we stayed for a short time, but then they put him in a cell of light to keep him from defending me. And when they made me conscious of the whole universe… it was maddening. They hadn’t bothered to fully check how well I would sense everything, and I had to face an onslaught of the entire universe’s information pouring into my mind and assaulting my senses. It was pure agony, and I was screaming over the bond for it to stop, sometimes passing out for a while before waking up again. It was all I could do in the face of that, and he heard every minute of my agony. When he put me into that sleep, I was finally able to be calm and peaceful. He intended to use my death to boot me out of the robot, then follow me wherever the mask took me, and leave the robot with use of his powers once everyone was safe._

_But I saw you occupy the other robot, the smaller one, and fight back,_ Matoro insisted. _If there was no malice between you, why did you do that?_

_I viewed the notes on the second robot before controlling it. There was an escape route in case something threatened the prototype and I - or whoever they planned to control it - needed to reboot it, but it was much wider and easier to exploit than the Great Beings would have thought wise. It had the means to bring down the moons, which would help the new friends I had made, the Agori and Glatorian. I told Teridax about it, over the bond, and he said that as long as I was certain I could be free of the robot once all was done, he trusted my choice. But Velika and his cohorts must have anticipated my using it… as soon as I was in, it had locked onto Teridax as a threat. It attacked, perhaps to goad him into attacking me back, but he did all he could to avoid that… if anything, he was the one who taunted it into bringing down the moons as an attack against him. I felt terrified when he was hit in the head by Aqua Magna… but I still felt the thinnest thread of his awareness, and he followed the bond to me in this incredibly weakened state. Now he stays at my side, day and night._

Matoro took a moment to let all of that information sink in for himself. _Well… I’m glad you’re at least happy and peaceful again._

_Thank you… though I fear that such peace may not last for long. I have been feeling a deep foreboding for some time now, and with how frequently he has visited this mask’s shrine to gloat under the thin excuse of standard awe, it would not surprise me if Velika is to be blamed for what may happen. I fear that those here on Spherus Magna may not be safe._ Mata Nui’s end of the connection shuddered in worry, and Teridax’s shadow drew visibly nearer to the mask, murmuring sleepily.

_My friends and family included… I want to still help them. There_ has _to be some way for me to keep them safe_.

Mata Nui let out a quiet sound, as if investigating something. _I still feel a distant connection to the Red Star. Perhaps…_ The mask’s brow furrowed, as if concentrating on something. _I believe I could construct a body from scratch with my powers, and have it located there. The Kestora would be able to put a soul in it_.

_Are you saying I might…?_ Matoro would have been waiting with bated breath had he still possessed lungs.

_Indeed. You may be able to live again. I’ll create your body as soon as possible._

Matoro felt elation fueling the light of his flame. Even if it was only for a short time, enough to keep his friends and others safe… he could see them again.


	2. As the Quantum Particle Flies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chaos abounds in New Atero, and two Toa set out to resolve a mystery.

As much of an oxymoron as it was, the best way to describe the current state of things was with the phrase “chaotic peace”. It was definitely a peace, because there were no enormous threats currently looming over them all. But there was chaos to be found as everyone tried to make that peace last, for everyone was still reeling from the countless battles that had been fought. 

New Atero still needed to be completed: many buildings on the expanding outskirts were half-finished, and councils for the varying districts had to be elected. There were often small quarrels over the designs of the city’s infrastructure, and getting everyone into a home they could be content with in the long term was proving difficult when the residents of the city came in so many different forms. 

The residents of the Matoran Universe and Bara Magna, now that they were living so close to one another, had to get used to the differences between them. There had been  _ too many _ cases to count where one of the Matoran Universe residents would be curious about some aspect of the Magnans’ biology or lifestyle - or vice versa - and the curious party would ask their question in an awkward or plain uncomfortable way without meaning to do so. Their differences in reproduction in particular had drawn much confusion. In the end, Turaga Nokama and some other scholars and teachers - including Agori and Glatorian - decided to handle the matter more officially, providing classes and seminars to help each side understand the other.

There had been immense effort put into finding any banished retiree Glatorian and offering them food and board and medicine. Many had been found just in the nick of time. Ackar was ecstatic to have many friends back, and did everything he could to help them return to good health. It was heavily speculated that he felt some form of guilt at not having the means to help them sooner, but such suspicions were never mentioned aloud.

The Toa Nuva, despite the peace, had been training routinely ever since New Atero was founded. They were unused to having peace that was so lasting, with no grand enemy looming on the horizon. Training gave them a physical routine to expect, and something to do to occupy themselves. Despite this, there was talk that some were considering starting families - Kopaka and Pohatu in particular had been discussing their plans with their friends.

The Inika were training as well, perhaps even  _ more _ frequently than the Nuva. However, their training was not born out of restlessness or boredom. They were training to fill what they believed to be an eternal debt they owed. It still hurt them to think about the one they had lost not that long ago, and Jaller and Hahli particularly felt it. For the briefest time on Voya Nui and in Mahri Nui the two of them had been connected to Matoro after years of being too nervous to reveal their wish for a trine with him, and it had felt  _ right _ to feel that bond to him at last, to have the constant reassuring echo of his soul supporting theirs, and theirs supporting his, but all too soon they had lost him to his fate. He had died to bring them peace, not knowing for himself if that peace would ever arrive, and now that it had, they intended to make sure it was never lost lest his sacrifice be in vain.

Now, even more chaos was arriving in their lives, at an alarming rate. Karzahni had been found dead, though medical examiners were still highly uncertain of the cause. Some were leaning towards murder. 

Then, not long after, Kopaka and Pohatu had felt a mental scream ricochet through their minds, along with mental images of the Red Star high above. Upon following the scream to its source, they had found the scattered remains of something crimson and strange, with no signs of skeletal remnants save for misshapen teeth. They had seen someone attempt to leap from tree to tree nearby, and brought them to the ground by force, suspecting them to be behind the death of whatever the teeth and remains had once belonged to.

The being they encountered was bizarre. Its body was a mishmash of colors and limbs, featuring six arms and four legs. When they had gotten the strange being to speak, he had said that his name was Gaardus, and revealed his history as an experiment at the hands of some of the Nynrah Ghosts. The being whose remains they had found had been some strange tentacle-ridden beast with a capacity for mental attacks, which Gaardus had found out the hard way. But during the onslaught, someone had approached without noticing Gaardus and slayed his attacker, resulting in the mental scream.

What he had told them about the Red Star had caught their interest, however.

Now they were on their way to a meeting with the Turaga, the Agori leaders, and the other Toa to discuss the recent events and revelations.

•••••••

Kopaka could feel the mixture of confusion, nerves, and anticipation in the air as he walked into the meeting hall, Pohatu holding the door for him before following close behind. Many had heard snippets of the full news they would be receiving shortly, and were speculating on the details.

The Inika were clustered at one part of the table, still looking tired from their training; he was certain Nokama would be insisting on medical checks for them soon, and possibly even mandatory vacation. Jaller and Hahli in particular were clearly lacking sleep, though he couldn’t blame them. Their dreams had rarely been kind to them since their third died.

His teammates, the Nuva, were all clustered together at another point along the table. Lewa and Onua were huddled close, both seeming to find some humor despite recent worries. Eventually, Lewa rested his head on his mate’s shoulder, using the faint sound of his mate’s pulse to calm his own and keep himself from causing  _ too  _ much chaos. Tahu and Gali were sitting with their usual manners: Tahu slightly slumped (though not as much as he would have been in days of old) and Gali politely waiting. She waved to Kopaka and Pohatu as they came over to their seats.

The “Toa Magna”, as people had taken to calling the Glatorian that Mata Nui had gifted with elemental abilities, seemed a tad oblivious to the tension in the room. Ackar was showing his age some with an occasional yawn, as he tended to do - an understandable urge, as the older Glatorian had been sleeping not long before the meeting. Kiina and Gresh were each tapping one of their feet or drumming on the table impatiently with their fingers. Tarix seemed to be watching the younger Glatorian with bemusement.

The Turaga were the stoic figures they always had been… mostly. It was clear that Nuju, like the Inika in general and Jaller and Hahli in particular, was still grieving. Matoro had been his only son - a son he had nearly lost to the cruelty of fate several times before, if what Kopaka had heard was true - and had been the last piece of his family after the loss of his mate, Ihu. He had been neglecting his personal well-being ever since the fateful day of his son’s death, and the worry the other Turaga felt for him leaked through to their expressions.

Finally, everyone who was summoned to the meeting had gathered.

“Alright,” Turaga Vakama began. “First and foremost, I wish to confirm for those not up-to-date on the situation that yes, Karzahni was recently found dead. Medical examiners have just recently reached a consensus on the cause of death, and it seems that he died at the hands of a murderer. There is no news yet on  _ who _ this murderer might be. Furthermore, as discovered by Toa Nuva Kopaka and Pohatu,” and here he nodded to the named pair in indication, “another powerful being has also been killed - likely also by a murderer - quite recently. We don’t know exactly what or who this second victim was, only that they had an extreme capacity for mental attacks. The mental scream upon the entity’s death was what alerted the two Toa to its presence and drew them to its remains. And finally… a witness to the aftermath of the second crime, a strange creature named Gaardus, has revealed some intriguing information about the Red Star. Information that was lost to time or reduced to nothing more than vague myths.” Vakama took a bracing inhale before he uttered his next few words. “The Red Star… is an automatic resurrection system for Matoran Universe residents.”

At once, there was a large amount of murmuring among those gathered, such as the recently-transformed rookie Toa. Kopaka couldn’t blame them; he had been highly doubtful of Gaardus’ retelling himself.

The Inika were obviously confused, or conflicted, over this information. Jaller and Hahli in particular had grown tense. Nuju, however, remained dejected - he knew more of the details about the Red Star, and had already had his hopes dashed. 

“Unfortunately,” and here Dume took over the announcement, “Resurrection requires a body to be repaired and rejuvenated, so its soul can be returned to it. For that to happen, there must  _ be _ a body to be teleported to the Star… meaning  _ certain _ individuals fall outside of its capacity.” He aimed a sorrowful, apologetic look at the Inika, who now all looked even worse for wear than they had on arriving for the meeting.

“We could use all the help we can get in expanding this city, right?” Ackar piped up, looking interested. “And an increase in morale is always welcome. It seems to me like reconnecting this Star to the world below would only do us a world of good.”

Dume nodded. “We also should find out what exactly has stopped revived individuals from being returned to the main planet. If we can get that system back up and running - perhaps even set up a secure location for return teleportation - it would make life much easier for all.” He tapped the surface of the table they all sat at, and it brought up written plans for them all to view. “Kopaka and Pohatu have been decided as the team that shall travel with Gaardus to the star. They have excellent potential as a recon team with their abilities of keen observation and swift travel, and as a pair of lifemates, they can easily exchange detailed information over great distance with their bond.”

“ _ How _ will they travel there?” Hewkii asked.

“Gaardus has promised he has the power to teleport us there,” Pohatu explained. “Apparently whoever altered him into his current form packed a wide variety of powers into him.” 

“We plan to leave tomorrow, after an equipment prep. With any luck, we should be able to return within the month,” Kopaka affirmed.

There was a murmur throughout the meeting hall as everyone speculated on how likely success would be for their mission. Many of the former residents of the Matoran Universe were clearly excited to reunite with friends and family they had thought forever lost. Eventually, they were all dismissed from the meeting for the evening.

_ Tomorrow will certainly be eventful... some way or another _ , Kopaka thought to himself.

•••••••

It was early the next morning, and they were sitting close to the chosen departure point, reviewing their cargo with the aid of some of the other Toa.

“Alright, first things first. The long-distance comm-hub.” Nuparu pulled out a silvery disc-like device from his own bag and handed it to them. “It should be paired up to both of your comms, so you can comm us and have your comm signal reach us even despite the interference and distance. I’ve put a power source in there that should last a year - plenty of time for you to set things right up in the Red Star and return. I’ve also stress-tested it against as much interference as I can recreate, and it should hold up in that way, too.” 

Pohatu nodded and chose to put it in Kopaka’s bag. His running speed could have a chance of rattling something loose in the device and making it malfunction. “Next is…?”

“Rations.” Gali brought over some filled thermoses, her legs a bit shaky after using her powers. “Four of these are packed full of daily ration bars, four are filled with water, and two are filled with healing water - in case you get wounded by whatever awaits you up there.” She helped divide the rations evenly between their packs. 

“Next, our primary tools…” Kopaka pulled his shield and twin swords, checking them over for any damage or deterioration. Pohatu did the same with his Climbing Claws. “They all look ready for use.”

Pohatu checked their packs. “Secondary tools… I have the simpler spare claws, you have the simplified spare swords. We should be good on defense.”

Nuparu pulled out ten more devices to give them. “Finally, we have the beacons.” Five were handed to Kopaka, five to Pohatu. “Those are also paired to your comms, so you should be able to navigate to them easily when needed. You can also set them to have different ‘meanings’ if need be.”

“Is that everything?”

“It should be. Let me check the list one last time… looks like it.”

Kopaka and Pohatu got to their feet, their eyes sliding to focus on the Inika. It was clear from the dark circles around the eyes of the younger Toa team that they had not rested well the night before. Not that he could blame them, when their hopes had been lifted and dashed back down so quickly. Jaller had told Kopaka they had accepted the simple truth that Matoro couldn’t possibly be revived, but he could tell that it was just a brave front the former Ta-Koro guard was putting on for his team’s sake and his own.

_ “They’re still hurting”, _ he told his mate over the bond.

_ “I would have been surprised if they weren’t _ ,” Pohatu responded sincerely. 

_ “I’ve been thinking about it, though… mere weeks ago, we would have found it absurd to think that the dead and departed could be revived and live among us again. Who’s to say… we won’t be surprised once more? _ ” 

Pohatu was silent for a few moments as he considered the idea.  _ “I want to believe we could be surprised again, especially in that way. Perhaps… we can reserve a slight thread of hope for such luck. _ ”

Kopaka nodded, feeling the same way, and went over to the Inika to clasp Jaller’s shoulder. “We’ll keep an eye out for him… just in case. The universe has enjoyed making fools of our assumptions lately, after all.” He offered the fire Toa a rare smile of encouragement. 

Jaller seemed a bit stunned, but then offered a weak smile back and a nod. “...thank you.”

Kopaka returned the nod, then headed back to where Pohatu and Gaardus were waiting.

“Stand close,” Gaardus warned them. “You’ll need to be in near proximity to me for all of us to make it through safely. Hold onto my shoulders and don’t let go.”

They did as told… and then they were away. 

Pressure was pushing in on them from all sides, like they were being crammed through a one-Matoran-wide one-way chute. Kopaka felt his left shoulder knock against Pohatu’s right, then press tightly against it, refusing to let up. In the brief moments before his eyelids were pressured into lowering and hiding the world from view, he could see colors rushing past in streaks. Then his eyes sheltered themselves and he felt the pressure around his chest grow tighter until-

Relief.

They had made it to the Red Star. 


	3. Don’t Start Another Riot, Just Keep Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Kestora are calmed, and the Toa report back on what they’ve found... and what they haven’t.

True to their expectations, everything seemed _doused_ in red when their vision cleared. The vast majority of the machinery around them was equipped with red lights, or with lights dim enough the red tint of the Star’s outer layer overcame them. There were several bodies laid out upon repair benches nearby, with strange creatures hunched over them, focused intently on their work. The whirring of powered saws against metal echoed all around, along with beeps as systems were tested.

There were a few clusters of Matoran and other Matoran Universe residents nearby, and several had paused in conversation to gape at the two Toa who had appeared. One or two had even dropped what they might have had in their hands, such as papers or food. Kopaka couldn’t blame them; he doubted someone teleporting into the Star of their own will was an everyday occurrence.

A Pakari-wearing Onu-Matoran was the first to approach them. “Well, now… it certainly is strange to see someone arrive here unharmed.” He began walking in circles around the two Nuva, looking them up and down. “You’re Toa… but different than the Toa I knew of old… your masks are different than standard, as well…?”

Kopaka and Pohatu both held out their hands placatingly. “We mean nobody any harm,” Pohatu assured the Matoran.

“Even if you did, considering where we are, any harm you intended would not have much of a lasting effect,” the Onu-Matoran retorted.

Gaardus gulped and tried to speak. “Mavrah, I-“

Mavrah held up a hand to stop him from saying any more. “The Kestora will _not_ be happy to see you, you know… especially since everything fell to disorder after your departure.”

Gaardus looked downright panicked at that thought, and almost seemed ready to try teleporting away from the wrath of the “Kestora”, whatever they might have been.

“However…” Mavrah continued, “Certain events have transpired recently that may make them more… lenient than before.” He glanced over at where several of the body-repairing creatures were approaching. “Speaking of which… brace yourselves.”

The Kestora were bizarre creatures. Their limbs seemed able to morph slightly to match what step of the repair process faced them next, and while they wore Kanohi as Matoran did, something about them seemed a tad off-putting. The three that were approaching them were all bristling, growling, and hissing at Gaardus, pointing at him in accusation.  

Kopaka and Pohatu had a brief moment of discussion over their bond before agreeing, simultaneously stepping in front of Gaardus to stop the Kestora from acting too quickly. “Come no closer,” Pohatu warned. The Kestora halted, as needed, and then began aiming their gestures and sounds of frustration at the two Toa, clearly upset at having their target protected from them.

Kopaka suddenly tensed and blinked as his and Pohatu’s comms received text signals… but not routed through the long-distance hub which they had brought. These were short-range - from within the Star itself, and if their triangulation was to be believed, within a few meters of them… from the Kestora.

‘Stand aside. Allow us to apprehend him.’

Pohatu shook his head and replied, also by text-comm. ‘We cannot. He brought us here, and we will protect him in return.’

The Kestora all hissed again. ‘He is suspect. None could leave after he did. Systems have refused to return to a functioning state. We must investigate.’

‘It could be coincidence. And he brought us as help. If he wanted it to stay broken, he would not have returned, or would have fled on sight of you. Yet here he stands.’ Kopaka gestured to the living weapon behind them in emphasis.

The Kestora snarled and seemed about to retort…

_Klinkklink! Clank-clank-clank!_

…before stopping, turning to look at something in the distance behind them. Whatever they saw, their armor plates settled and they seemed to attempt to quell their tempers. Kopaka and Pohatu both strained their own eyes to see what had drawn their attention, and blinked at the distant sight that awaited them.

There was an immense brazier within the arrangement of the many work-benches, made of simple protosteel and kept under guard. Roaring in said brazier was the most powerful fire either of them had ever seen; even the wildfires that would flare into being from Tahu’s rage back on the island of Mata-Nui, ravaging the land like beasts all their own, did not exude the sheer sense of raw power this one did. Its hue was a chaotic, frantic amalgamation of every color one could imagine, with spots of various colors appearing only to disappear again every few seconds, as if each color were pushing to show itself more, competing with every other. It was of immense size, yet it seemed as if it could have been larger, pressing itself hard against the grates at the edges of the brazier. One streak of white was refusing to yield from its position at the edge, even nudging against it and causing more noise.

The Kestora focused back on the Toa, their body language far more calm now. ‘State your business in detail.’

They snapped back to attention, and Kopaka replied first. ‘We discovered Gaardus on the planet of Spherus Magna recently, and he was the one who told us about the true nature of this place.’

‘We wanted to make certain his story was true,’ Pohatu added. ‘It seemed rather far-fetched to us, the idea of people being revived. But we _wanted_ to believe it was true, especially after all of the strife our world has been through recently.’

‘And since we hadn’t seen any of those we lost returning… we wanted to make sure that whatever was damaged would be fixed, so they could come back to us,’ Kopaka finished.

The Kestora all seemed stunned and confused, with their heads cocked and their armor plates flaring randomly in uncertainty. ‘They… do not know of us on the surface? Why? How? We are an integral part of the Matoran Universe.’

‘There are… a number of reasons.’ Kopaka rubbed the back of his head a tad sheepishly. ‘The islands had eventually been in contact with each other less frequently than ages of old, so any rumor of its old function likely had little ability to spread. And those on Metru Nui, save for a scant few, were given forceful amnesia due to an attempted takeover of the island.’

The Kestora all nodded and let out strange gurgling murmurs of agreement. ‘We apologize for trying to apprehend the suspect so… abruptly. While he got back to the surface safely, the return system suffered a malfunction. We have been unable to repair it for 1,000 years. As such, the most obvious explanation was that he held responsibility for its error.’

‘Even if he is, he may also possibly end up being the reason it works again. He was the one who brought us here, allowing us to potentially look at the problem with a new set of eyes,’ Pohatu retorted.

The group of Kestora looked indecisively between each other, then eventually back to the Toa. ‘We shall accept your aid. There are quarters available nearby for the two of you. Follow us to them.’ They turned and began heading off, encouraging the Toa to keep pace with them.

Kopaka and Pohatu both let out sighs of relief as they fell into step, glancing to each other before speaking over the bond.

 _“That was… tense,”_ Kopaka thought, the uneasiness visibly and tangibly melting away from him.

 _“Agreed. I have to wonder what got them to suddenly calm down like that, though._ ” Pohatu felt himself having to stifle a yawn, already feeling exhausted from the crazy events of the day - and possibly as a side-effect from the teleportation or the workings of the Star itself, for all he knew.

Kopaka’s lips pressed thin with deep contemplation. _“They seemed to be focusing on the fire in the distance… though to be honest, that thing was abnormal enough I couldn’t help but realize_ I _was staring at it, too_ . _”_

_“You too? I almost didn’t even notice when they turned and sent us another comm.”_

They finally arrived at some basic quarters - not much different than the barracks Toa would sometimes stay in when things got busy, though the two Toa noticed the buildings seemed rather freshly constructed. Stopping outside the door, the Kestora turned to face their guests. ‘You may take the quarters on the upper floor.’

‘Thank you,’ Kopaka and Pohatu both replied. At their thanks, the Kestora began walking away, and the Toa took the chance to head inside.

The interior was no more extravagant than the exterior. There were simple tan curtains at each window, in case they wanted less light. There was a plain table with an oil lamp and some chairs, a simple wardrobe, a rug by the door for wiping off their feet, hooks on the wall for cloaks and tools, a basic bed just large enough for the two of them together… simple, but sufficient.

Kopaka sighed and went to put their bags on the hooks, along with their Toa tools, rolling his shoulders a little as he felt the relief at not bearing their weight any more. Pohatu rolled his own shoulders out before walking calmly up behind his mate and starting to try massaging out the tension the ice Toa felt, smiling as his mate all but melted backwards into the touch.

“Comm home from bed?” Kopaka suggested.

“Comm home from bed,” Pohatu affirmed.

The two of them headed over to the bed and gladly flopped down into it, pulling the blankets over themselves and holding each other close, and feeling themselves truly starting to relax now that they had a chance to breathe and stay still rather than constantly being on the move. Pohatu patched them through the comm-hub, and they were able to hear the sounds of everyone milling in the grand meeting hall back home, before suddenly everything went hushed as everyone noticed the Toa were on the line.

‘Toa Kopaka, Toa Pohatu, can you hear us?’ Turaga Dume piped up first.

‘Loud and clear, Dume,’ Pohatu replied. ‘And vice versa?’

‘Vice versa indeed!’ They could hear the sound of a few gentle cheers in the background as people rejoiced at the fact the teleported Toa were unharmed, and able to update them on the situation. ‘How are things on the Red Star?’

‘They were complicated at first, but we’ve smoothed several things out already,’ Kopaka explained. ‘Apparently the being who told us of this place and brought us here, Gaardus, was the very last one to return from the Star because the return machinery broke right after his turn. We’re going to start trying to figure out what happened tomorrow… or maybe this evening, depending on what time we wake up.’

‘That sounds like a smart idea,’ Nokama replied. ‘Get yourselves some good sleep for once. Any idea on _how_ people are revived, before you go?’

‘Only vaguely,’ Pohatu replied. ‘We saw creatures called Kestora repairing lifeless bodies, but we’re not certain how life is restored to them.’

‘Thank you for the information all the same,’ Dume told them. ‘Get some rest, you two.’

‘We plan to,’ both Toa replied simultaneously.

After that, there was a calming silence. Pohatu was quick to fall asleep, and Kopaka would have followed him into slumber within minutes… were it not for a ping to his comm from back home. He checked the ID… and winced a little, seeing it was Jaller and Hahli. He accepted the call, but stayed silent, unsure what to say.

‘...did you see any sign of him…?’ Jaller asked almost fearfully.

Kopaka gulped. ‘We… haven’t had time to look for him yet. So not a yes, but not a definite no. We’ll still keep an eye out for him, though. I promise.’

‘Alright… thank you.’ Hahli’s voice seemed exhausted before she and Jaller hung up.

Kopaka felt sleep was a lot harder to reach after that.

•••••••

Matoro’s soul paced in the brazier, thoughtful.

Kopaka and Pohatu had seemed… relatively healthy. There were no new injuries he could recognize easily. But they had looked tired beyond their years.

_Are they working themselves too hard down there…?_

He briefly contemplated alerting them to his presence, but after some time decided against it. They were likely already reeling enough as it was. He didn’t want to alarm them even more.

He would stay quiet… for now.


	4. Dark Dreams of Dark Designs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams reveal a plot brewing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I’m quite surprised Rebirth and Rebellion is the less popular one compared to “Monsters, or Mind Control.” So now I’m curious: What has this one done better or worse? If you tried both but were more reluctant to try this one at first, why is that?
> 
> Also, I’m sorry this chapter is so short. With the plot segment I laid out for it beforehand, I couldn’t figure out any way to make it longer.

It had been a long few hours for Matoro. Seeing Kopaka and Pohatu arrive, clearly still recovering from prior battles and experiences, had left him reeling and intensely uncertain of what to do for some time, even when he finally told himself he had best not announce his presence to them yet. That was the decision that left him the most conflicted, and it had taken self-assurance that if it was inevitable he would let himself be discovered to make the other opinion he held quiet down. He had watched intently as the two Nuva were led away to somewhere they could rest and recuperate, and now he was left with a span of time where he had nothing to do. Even watching the Kestora repair the bodies of the many deceased could only hold his attention for so long.

He had discovered some unknown amount of time ago (unknown because time was incredibly difficult to keep track of from the perspective of the brazier) that there was a way to sleep and dream, similarly to how he had done so in the past, in his soul-only form. It was a welcome discovery, as it gave him a way to shorten his perception of the time that remained until his body would be fully constructed and ready for him. He felt that now was another good time to try it.

He focused on the “breath” of his flame, the feeling of energy rushing through from the bed of strange, energized stones laid out beneath them all and exerting itself as color and light and warmth and existence. The flow was soothing, eventually carrying his conscious thought with it in a thin stream until he felt and saw the world around him blur and fade. 

When he could see again, his subconscious having taken the reins, he was somewhere else entirely, in a place unfamiliar and unwelcoming.

There was scarcely the tiniest whisper of circulating air, and he felt a hint of terror as a thread of him wondered whether something had stolen him away from the Red Star forever, to be buried and locked away in some maze of tunnels without sight of the truth he knew lurked in the midnight heavens. Everything was in tones ranging from black to brown to yellow, giving it all a sense of monotony and uniformity. The walls and heatstone-hearth were made of rough brown stone, cut with precision. A single lightstone sat on the desk, a single heatstone placed in the hearth to warm the room. Books were assorted in numerous piles, yet all were at strict angles and arranged with precision, and their covers and spines were utilitarian in design. 

He saw one of the books laid out open on the desk and shuddered at the sight of the beast whose image it presented through rough sketch. It was crimson in color, made of a mass of writhing, formless limbs bristling with spines. He saw a glimpse of its ravenous maw gaping open at the air above it, wisps of something unknown being pulled helplessly into it. He tried to decipher the text below it, but the more he concentrated, the more it rippled and swam. He then tried simply skimming it, and felt relief as some words stuck in his mind, such as “Annona” and “dream-eater”.

Another book lay open, and he saw an immense, reptilian being with golden skin drawn on the page. This sketch was even rougher than that of the crimson beast in the other tome, as if there were only vague ideas of what this being looked like due to reluctance to draw near. He skimmed the text and glimpsed the words “Golden-Skinned Being” (which the wry part of his mind found to be worthy of a muttered “obviously”) and “dream fulfiller”. There was a strange bullet-pointed list included, and he had to double-take as he saw the names of the Piraka in it. Repeat skims showed he wasn’t hallucinating; those were the names of the ones he had long grown to recognize as his Toa team’s first foes.

There was an immense parchment map spread over one wall, its edges magnetized in place somehow. Magnetic markers on it showed planned routes of travel that his sleeping, unfocused mind could not hope to trace. He glimpsed some markers labeled “Karzahni” and “Tren Krom”, and two more with the words “Annona” and “Golden”, suggesting plans involving those beings he had glimpsed in the ancient books laid out on the desk.

He abruptly realized he was not alone in the room. A figure was seated in a chair facing the desk, slightly hunched over and seemingly focused on a third book Matoro could not get proper glimpses of. A cloak obscured their form, but they appeared no taller than a Matoran. Like the rest of the room, the glimpse he could see of their hands showed only brown, but whether they were a Po-Matoran or his vision was too tinted to discern remained a mystery. Their hands moved carefully and yet held an air of certainty and purpose.

“It’s rude to watch someone over their shoulder, you know.”

Matoro felt alarm leap inside him at the sudden break in the silence. Prior to those words, every sound had been distant, and the noise was jarring… and the tone was familiar. He was certain that had his body been present, every plate of his armor would have been standing on end as unease balled up within his gut.

The Matoran pushed their chair away from the desk and stood, setting aside their writing utensil. “Then again, you were always far too inquisitive a Toa for my liking.” They turned to face him, and their hood slid back, revealing his guess about their element to be correct, and revealing their mask. “Even on Voya Nui.”

Matoro knew now, with paralyzing, frightening,  _ enraging _ certainty, just who he was looking at.

The Matoran’s mask glowed at that instant, and suddenly, the room around Matoro melted away as he felt his subconscious racing madly away from it in fright. He needed a dream that was soothing, a dream that was safe and secure, connected to those who would wish for his safety rather than that malicious, control-seeking  _ thing _ it had sensed in the first. It knew two souls that it wanted him to connect to again, and reached out to them.

They responded, the reach of their souls welcoming, longing to keep him even closer as they had in days of old, and for a short time, he was able to savor a glimpse of long-sought peace.


	5. Precaution and Premonition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaller and Hahli feel a trace of a long-torn connection.

They were finally able to be at peace together.

The coastal meadow around them was calm, only stirred by the slightest breeze as the trine lay together under the shade of a lone tree. They were without the slightest worry in their hearts as they watched seabirds dive and rise languidly.

Jaller and Hahli had Matoro cuddled between them, the presence of his soul so close to theirs leaving them feeling like a soothing blanket was draped over them. Their calm and bliss bounced back and forth between the three of them, echoing and growing in volume. Their fingers were intertwined, each of them able to feel the others purring.

It was not to last.

Matoro seemed to notice something changing, for he looked mournfully at each of them, though he tried to keep a smile going. In the faintest whisper, he spoke to them. “I’ll be able to see you again soon. I promise.” The words and his presence seemed to be trickling away as he angled his head to give each of their foreheads a kiss, and to show them one last smile. “Stay strong, just for a little longer.”

They both were jarred awake as their comms went off with an alarm they had set for the morning, the harsh tone they’d forgotten they’d chosen earning their hatred as they turned it off and lay in their bed for a scant few more minutes. They tried all they could to keep the details of their dream from slipping away again, but it was no use. Now, the snapped-off part of their bond where Matoro had once been connected felt more painful than ever, like a knife that had been buried in their chests was being twisted harshly in place.

After some time, they finally sat up, sharing a mournful look and a nuzzle of comfort before preparing themselves for the dreaded task that had required them to set their alarm. Today, their turn as day-shift guards of the Kanohi Ignika would begin, and they would need to attend to that duty every day for a week. For seven days, they would need to keep watch over the  _ same _ artifact that had stolen away a part of their trine, when they would prefer it had never existed if they could help it.

Their room was a standard double room in one of the barracks-buildings of New Atero. Many of the new rookie Toa who were added to the ranks in recent times were confused by the fact that they hadn’t yet moved out to some separate house all their own, like the Nuva pairs and bachelors had done, or their own teammates. The truth was that they didn’t want one in their current state. The barracks were all they needed, all they cared to have, in their goal of making sure the peace Matoro died for was well-kept. They had no time for small luxuries and hobbies. Free time let their mind wander to the pain again, and any house they considered would not feel like “home” without their third beside them. 

They gathered their basic armor and put it on, helping each other with an occasional stubborn piece, before picking up their weapons and heading downstairs to the communal kitchen where their team would sometimes eat together despite living in separate places. Sure enough, today was one such day: this was little to no surprise, considering that they always gathered for moral support when one or more of them was assigned to guard the Ignika.

Hewkii was the first to look up and notice them, doing his best to give the two of them an encouraging grin. “Hey, you two!” His eyes lingered knowingly on their exhausted, unhappy expressions. “Take it your dreading today kept you up?”

“Just cheer-think of when your duty-task will be done!” Kongu quipped, trying to keep their spirits high. “No worry-dread for a long while afterwards.”

Jaller groaned as he and Hahli flopped down in their seats at the table, the two shaking their heads to show that Kongu’s words wouldn’t address their full worries. “That Mask decided to keep him out of our reach in a new way…”

Nuparu cocked a brow. “...what do you mean?”

Hahli rubbed a hand over her mask before taking some bread from the plate at the center of the table. “He was with us in our dreams. The three of us were at peace… perfectly happy, for once. Nothing to come between us… until we had to wake up.”

Jaller nodded in confirmation. “He seemed to  _ know _ we were about to wake up, too. He tried to reassure us, before everything faded away… and we woke up to our alarms.” His fingertips seemed to singe his food a little as he held it. “If we hadn’t needed to wake up to guard the Mask… we might have had just a bit more time with him. A bit more time where we could feel complete.”

Nuparu, Kongu, and Hewkii all shared a concerned look before returning their focus to their two grieving teammates. “The dream… it didn’t feel anything like the Golden-Skinned Being’s illusions, right?” Nuparu questioned, worry leaking into his voice.

Jaller and Hahli felt their hearts drop at the suspicions of their teammates. If someone suspected they were still under the influence of that  _ fiend _ … they could be forced to avoid any more dreams of their lost mate. They both shook their heads emphatically.

“No. Those dreams always felt saturated with stimulus… more intense by leagues, hyper-detailed. This dream… it was simply peaceful. And almost entirely silent,” Hahli assured the others.

“Do you still wish you hadn’t been thought-freed?” Kongu asked them.

“There’s  _ always _ going to be a small part of us that wishes that. But we… can drown it out now, like we’ve been doing so far. We can focus on the real version of him… and what he would have wanted for the world,” Jaller explained.

The clock chimed, and the five of them looked up at it, two of them feeling their shoulders sag at the hour they saw.

“Looks like it’s time to head to our shift,” Hahli grumbled, heading to the door with Jaller. The two of them turned to wave one last good-bye to their teammates, then left.

It was a routine they had always known far better than they ever wished to. They passed by a small park on their way to the Ignika’s temple, seeing a fair number of families taking morning walks through the area. They would try to avert their eyes from the statue in that park, but find themselves unable to, often pausing to properly view the metal-cast form of Matoro plunging through the center of a waterfall with the Ignika in his hands… about to place it over his own visage. After some time, they would finally find the strength to tear themselves away from staring at it, and it would be a short walk further to the temple.

On arrival, they stashed their personal weapons in exchange for specialized guard-duty spears and extra armor, all of which were golden in some capacity to match the Mask. The helms that went over their heads had always felt overly bulky and imbalanced to the two of them, and sounds were always distorted before reaching their ears, leaving their directional hearing heavily challenged whenever their guard shifts were in progress. There had been one or two occasions prior where they tried talking to each other on shift, but no matter the angle they faced, their voices didn’t sound right when words were exchanged. Hahli had once likened it to having a conch shell over each ear, and Jaller agreed - except where one could put a conch shell up to their ear by choice and for the sake of personal amusement, they had no choice in this matter, and had to keep their hearing thus limited for hours. This was an intentional choice, as they had found out; less vocal conversation between guards meant less distraction from auditory cues of trouble brewing. They considered themselves lucky that shift selectors seemed to always choose the two of them at the same time, so they had their bond if they wanted to communicate with or confide in one another.

After setting their normal gear aside, they took their positions at either side of the main entryway to the Ignika’s shrine, facing each other. It was a tiring position for anyone on watch, and the makers of the temple had taken this into consideration when designing it. There were special notches carved in the walls at their backs, designed so that those who were on guard in the assigned armor could slot parts of their armor loosely into the wall and have it help support their weight. Jaller and Hahli found themselves frequently taking advantage of this any time they were drawn for guard duty, for they still had a fair number of scars and partially-healed injuries left as a reminder of their days on Voya-Nui, tiring and paining them all the more quickly. It felt surreal to consider themselves more “seasoned” then some of the rookie Toa being trained up in recent times. They still felt a tad bewildered and out of their element at times… but perhaps that was simply one of the inevitable consequences of being shocked into Toahood in the middle of a conflict, without the ability to slowly get used to their new fates.

Any time someone wanted to see the Ignika - whether they wished to pray, or admire it, or read about its history, or otherwise - Jaller and Hahli had to wait five minutes from the first visitor’s arrival in case more visitors showed up. Once five minutes had passed, they would bring any who had congregated into the central shrine to see the mask, locking the gate behind them in their absence. Fifteen minutes later they and the group would return, and if more visitors awaited them at the gates, another five minutes’ wait would pass before taking the new group down. It was a simple system, and they had grasped its rules quickly.

There didn’t seem to be any unusual visitors to the Mask this time around. They both recognized the various Glatorian who visited the mask frequently, sometimes almost daily. From what they had heard, that group consisted of the ones who had helped Mata Nui when he was stranded on the barren planet, helping guide him to his goal. Jaller often nodded and murmured faintly in sympathy when the warrior from Vulcanus complained of his old wounds acting up, as the Toa Inika of Fire had felt his own wounds bother him with some frequency, loathe as he was to admit it. Various Agori leaders would visit the mask when they had the chance in their busy schedules, some hoping that being in its presence might grant them a tidbit of wisdom to help them through the day. There were several classes’ worth of young children being brought to the shrine to see the Mask for themselves that day, and the two Inika felt a mixture of pride and inner pain when the teachers pointed out the role of their team in the recovery of the Mask from the Piraka. The pain would only worsen when they escorted each class back out of the shrine and heard the teachers clearly say whose statue they would visit next on their history-trip. It was only logical that they would visit Matoro’s statue as they learned about what had happened to the Ignika, but the logic didn’t help to dull the ache of their souls at the reminder. 

Jaller felt himself slump a little with relief as the voices of the day’s last school group faded into the distance. He could see Hahli slump at her post, too, and he tried to pulse a bundle of encouragement over the bond to her. A minute smile spread over his face as he felt her pulse the same right back to him.

_ Just think… we’ve gotten one day out of seven nearly done already. We can do this.  _ He gave her a bigger smile and puffed out his chest to a deliberately goofy level, trying to lift her spirits with some humor.

_ I certainly hope we can. _ She returned the smile, chuckling quietly to herself at his behavior.  _ How are you holding up over there? _

_ Back’s aching, but when doesn’t it ache in this entryway? I might need one of those heat-patches against it when we head back to the barracks _ . He rubbed his back as best he could through the extra armor to prove his point.

She winced in sympathy.  _ I can see if my water healing helps at all, once we head back and rest. _

Her mate cocked a brow.  _ Only if you’re not too tired out yourself. How are your own wounds doing?  _

_...I’ll be honest, probably not much better. _ She briefly bent to rub at the back of her own shin.  _ It still hurts where you had to burn that poison or whatever it was away, when things get dry enough. Like today. _

He cocked his head.  _ Has Nokama figured out why it’s still hurting? _

_ No _ , Hahli responded.  _ Though she’s hoping she’ll get to the bottom of the mystery soon. _

They had let their conversation take a bit of their focus as they waited through the “dry spell” of visitors to the shrine. It was nice to have some stillness for a while, and it was getting decently close to the end of their matching shift.

As if on cue from that thought, Jaller heard footsteps approaching.  _ I think that might be our relief… _ He turned to look, only to blink in surprise at seeing a familiar Po-Matoran approaching the gate.  _ Or not… I guess Velika wants to see the Ignika this evening. _ He was about to nod in greeting, or perhaps lift his arm to wave at the familiar Matoran from Voya Nui, but he and Hahli both tensed as a feeling of unease settled over them like thick fog. It was a deep, gut-churning unease, like an amplified version of the “uncanny valley” sensation, urging them to recognize some slight “tell” in the scene before them and realize that a grave threat faced them. The armor plating on the backs of their necks stood on end, rattling quietly as they watched Velika approach from a distance.

_ Don’t trust him…! _

They both felt their heartlights jolt as something - someone - whispered directly into their souls, their pulses hammering at the hint of the familiar presence they had so long missed.

_ Keep him away from the Ignika…! _

It was Matoro’s voice, as familiar as the weight of their own sword and harpoon, curling close to them, trying to warn and protect them, even if he was so far away…!

Velika’s gaze seemed almost calculating as he drew nearer, eyes darting to look at one Toa, then the other, as if weighing his options.

_ He can’t be trusted! Keep him away! _

It was only a thin thread of the connection to their mate, but they clung to it. It had to be him somehow, it had to be…

Or was it?

They both jolted as they recognized that last thought as one not their own. It had come from elsewhere and tried to hide as their own logic, to earn their trust as it stamped back Matoro’s warnings. Their teeth gritted, and they felt immense relief as the connection to Matoro swatted it away, slamming some door behind it. Velika looked distinctly annoyed now, and Jaller and Hahli felt more and more that they somehow needed to act as he drew closer.

With a nod to each other, they crossed their spears in front of the gate, showing clearly that they were not going to permit him entry.

Velika stopped where the transport-road met the curb of the pedestrian path. “Are you willing to allow me in without waiting for a group at this hour, by chance?” the Po-Matoran asked, cocking his head a bit to the side in a facade of innocence. They could feel that second presence nudging at their minds again, Matoro’s awareness rippling with distrust of it.

Jaller chose to be the one to speak up, thickening the walls of his mind like he would when Kongu was around. “I’m afraid the Ignika is acting oddly. We can’t allow anyone in to see it at this time, for the sake of public safety. Our apologies.”

Hahli tensed a bit.  _ Jaller, a transport with several passengers is passing by. Brace yourself in case they’re somehow made to want to see the Mask as well. If he riles them up as a group, he could find a way in. _

Velika seemed not to notice, focusing on questioning them further. “Ah, and how long do you suspect it will be closed to viewing?”

“We’ll consult the Turaga and the Order of Mata Nui when our shifts are over. Until then, I’m afraid we cannot let anyone in,” Jaller reaffirmed. 

Velika seemed to debate internally on how to respond, but eventually conceded. “Fine. I shall return some time later, however.” He turned to leave - and a bizarre series of events occurred.

First, they saw Velika stumble on the edge of the curb, losing his balance and nearly face-planting into the cobbled street. At the same instant, the passing transport sped up, seemingly ready to have a head-on collision with the toppled Matoran, likely ending in a poor fate for the latter party. In the nick of time, Velika got back to his feet and out of the way, but in his haste, something he had been holding in his hand was left in the road and promptly crushed under the transport’s treads.

Velika paused and stared at the destroyed item for some time, seemingly speechless, before huffing and leaving, looking more annoyed than ever.

Hahli took the opportunity to walk towards the small object’s remains, carefully picking up all the pieces she could and putting them into a small drawstring pouch she had on her person.  _ It looks like some sort of electric device, _ she told her mate. 

_ One has to wonder why he planned to visit the Ignika with it, in which case… we should have Nuparu examine it.  _ Jaller leaned over to peer at it a bit closer himself, before it vanished from view into the pouch. 

They both turned their attention to the remaining presence in their minds, still scarcely daring to believe that it was Matoro. But even as they felt him settle down from Velika’s absence and focus on the two of them, he felt just like they remembered him… only the connection was far weaker, perhaps by distance. Tears prickled at their eyes as they felt a burst of affection from him, like he was hugging their very souls, never wanting to let go.

But eventually, the connection was gone, fading as they tried to savor the last fleeting moments of it. The device was still present, so they knew it wasn’t all some wishful dream… he had been there, reaching out to them, somehow. But now, they were left confused at Velika’s intent, and their trine-mate’s absence ached all the more deeply.


	6. Revived and Feathered, Fondly Remembered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A body is rebuilt and reclaimed.  
> A connection grows stronger.

The hidden chamber within the Red Star had been far more active in the past week than it ever had in the countless centuries that came before. A motionless figure was taking form within a mass of tangled wires submerged in a glowing pool. Armor was taking shape to match the body that proudly wore it. An empty heartlight, electric green, lay open and waiting for a flame to fill it.

Mata Nui could see the progress through his connection to the Star, and hummed to himself in thought as he considered what else could be done. This Toa was one who wished to help others in any way that he could, and to make sure that the world could keep its hard-sought peace. Perhaps, for one with such willpower… greater abilities were needed. He gave the Red Star’s systems an extra command or two, and watched as feathers came into view, protruding upward from underneath the prone body. 

Now, it was time.

•••••••

To Matoro’s delight, the Kestora had  _ not _ returned to their old habits of disassembling those they had once revived, even after a week had passed. In fact, they were now focusing on their work with a newfound fervor. Matoro couldn’t blame them; there had been an immense upsurge in the number of bodies arriving to the Star for repairs not long after his own arrival there.

Right now, they were rebuilding a Matoran who seemed to have been caught in the middle of a rather fierce battle. Sand of a strange color clogged the joints of the empty body, leading Matoro to suspect the Matoran had met their fate on the surface of the strange planet where Mata Nui and Teridax had been forced to fight. Perhaps that battle had led to severe consequences for those on the ground…

_ Matoro? _

The ice Toa’s flame gave a jolt of surprise, spitting out a puff of smoke and some sparks as it tried to settle again. Since he had first contacted Mata Nui at the beginning of the week, they had not spoken again, and the ice Toa had been content with that. He didn’t want to pester the Great Spirit as the latter worked on his body - not only did he not want to seem rude or impatient, but he didn’t want to possibly cause any mistakes.  _ Yes, sir? Is there something I can help you with? _

_ Your body is finally done being rebuilt. Though I  _ have _ made some… new additions.  _ The Great Spirit sounded pleased with himself. 

_...new additions? _ The Toa knew from his experience with Nuparu’s inventions to be cautious of anyone claiming to have “improved” something that would have worked just fine on its own.    
_ What’s with that worried tone? _ Now Mata Nui sounded almost  _ hurt. _

In lieu of answering, Matoro presented him the many, many,  _ many _ memories he had of what “new additions” had meant when Nuparu called him and/or others to his workshop. And the countless healer visits that were needed after such “presentations”.   
_...oh _ . Mata Nui mentally paled.  _ It’s nothing like that, I promise! _

_ Alright. If you promise, I’ll take your word for it… where do I go from here? _ Matoro looked around, curious of where it was kept.

_ Follow the cable that’s pulsing with rings of golden light. It should lead you into a chamber below the main repair bay, where your body awaits. _ He felt the deity project a mental smile to him.  _ Your time has come, young Toa. _

Matoro spotted the cable in question, and rushed for it, feeling like he could whoop with glee if he’d had his vocal chords at that moment. He could see it now, ready and waiting for him: the heartlight was open and empty, beckoning him to take his rightful place…!

In a flash of light, he was  _ whole _ again.

His eyes opened as he saw through them for the first time in months, if not years, and knowledge of color and light and motion returned to his mind. His ears were bombarded, then soothed, by the beeps and whirrs of the Star’s systems around him, new to his senses yet familiar to his soul. The smells of the Star were few and meek, yet they stood out boldly to him as his nostrils flared and took in the air that greeted them. He took his first breath in this chance at life, and the cold that filled his lungs made him feel as if he were briefly returned to his home of yore, in the drifts of Ko-Wahi.

Sitting up took some effort as his mind and muscles renegotiated their old agreements and found a truce or two, but after some moments of strain and frustration he managed. His legs stretched from hips to toes, then his arms from shoulders to fingertips. 

Bringing his legs under him to start standing up took another dose of effort, and he yelped as they began trembling like Le-Koro fiddle bows. He was glad to find that he felt no aches or pains as his body accepted his presence and control again, and after one last attempt, he finally found his footing.

His stomach chose that moment to grumble, apparently upset at having been ignored for the last… several years, at least. Not that it was available to be heard for that time. He pouted and glared down at it, giving it a stern poke. “Be patient. You’ve waited this long, you can wait a tad longer.” It finally quieted down after that.

He gathered his courage and lifted one of his feet to take a single step, only to promptly fall on his face with an “oomph”. Some weight against his back and shoulders had caught him off-guard. He lifted his head and shook it a little to reorient himself, looking over his shoulder and gaping as he saw what had been “added”.

A pair of large, beautiful wings was attached to his shoulders and back, draped over the floor around him since he had not thought of their existence before now, much less how to properly position them. They were easily large enough to lift him into the air with ease once he got the hang of them.

_ …well… now I see what those “additions” were that you mentioned. _ His own mental voice seemed a bit shaky as he spoke to Mata Nui. 

_ Do you like them? _ Now the Great Spirit sounded like someone waiting with bated breath for someone’s reaction to the Solstice gift he’d given.

_ I’m… a bit too stunned to know  _ what _ to think just yet, in all honesty? _ The ice Toa tried standing up again, finding greater success this time as he turned in place to get a better look at the wings in question. They matched the rest of his coloring, with snowy whites fading to icy blues, and had some rather stunning patterns.  _ I mean, they definitely  _ look  _ good. The colors and patterns are nice. It’s just going to take practice… a  _ lot _ of practice, in fact…. for me to get the hang of them.  _

_ Have you given them a try? _ He was  _ certain _ he could  _ hear _ the Great Spirit’s mask wiggling in excitement on its shrine. 

_ I’ll try them now, though I’m not sure how much I’ll manage with them this first time… _ With some effort, Matoro managed to lift his wings up to raise them above his head. They were much lighter than he would have expected, for their plumage was thick and dense… suited for the wintery homes he knew in his younger days. 

He thought back to all the times he’d seen birds in flight, and how the upstroke and downstroke of their wings differed. The largest feathers, the primaries, would spread out on the upstroke to allow air through the slots between their tips… and on the downstroke, they would bring the feathers close together again to push against the cushion of air that had been spun into form beneath each wing. 

_ This might be simple… or, knowing how weird my luck can be, it might become the most ridiculous-looking thing I’ve ever done. _ He sighed to himself.  _ Well… time to give it a try… _ He closed his eyes, took a few calming breaths, flapped his wings for the first time…

...and promptly regretted it as the ground raced away from him.

His first instinct - the incorrect one, just his luck - was to flail his limbs madly and yell enough to strain his throat. Unfortunately, “his limbs” now included the very  _ wings _ that were to blame for him being at his current altitude, and  _ their _ flailing took the form of frenzied flapping that only managed to bring him higher into the air. This made him flail more, which sent him higher, in a nearly endless loop - until his head hit the top of the chamber and he grabbed onto whatever he could above him, now dangling from the thick cables that made the form of the ceiling.

_...My suspicions may have been more correct than you expected, Mata Nui.  _ **_Far, far_ ** _ more correct than you expected. _ The poor ice Toa peered down past his toes at the ground below and promptly added more regrets to the ever-growing pile, deciding it was a much better idea to clench his eyes shut and hyperventilate. He already felt light-headed after his frenzied ascent from earlier, and his continuing panic certainly wasn’t helping him catch his breath at all.

He could  _ hear _ Mata Nui trying - and failing - not to laugh at witnessing such a clumsy “first flight”, if one could even call it that. Matoro almost swore he could hear a faint, deeper echo to the Great Spirit’s muffled chortling… and his face reddened as he realized he’d had an audience of  _ two _ deities, rather than just one.  _ I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it with time...? _ It seemed to be a statement of appeasement, rather than one born of certainty.

_ I certainly hope so… considering I’m feeling ready to fall down any moment…! _ Matoro tried to imagine his team watching this spectacle, from down below. Hewkii would have been trying to help out as best he could, but felt a little helpless. Nuparu would have been shouting ridiculous ideas up at him, possibly doing his best to hover near him and awkwardly be prepared to catch him. Kongu would have been unable to hold back his laughter, but been doing his best to shout up advice to his teammate in spite of it. And Jaller and Hahli…

His heartlight gave a flutter and a jolt as he thought of his mates and the distance that lay between himself and the two of them. They would have stood directly below him, trying to hide their worry for his sake while helping to act as a cushion between him and the ground, ready to catch him. They would have been smiling up at him, calling out to him with advice and encouragement, letting him know that he was doing amazingly and that they were certain he could figure out a solution. He would have felt them pulsing love and encouragement over their trinebond, wrapping his soul in shawls of comfort and bravery…

...but at that moment, he felt like his soul nearly extinguished itself as he realized that the bond that had once sang so clearly to him was reduced to less than the weakest thread. Whether it was due to his death, or the distance currently separating them, he could only feel the faintest whisper of their awareness and love. Without the bond’s reassuring presence… he didn’t feel  _ complete _ .

_ Jaller? _

No response.

_ Hahli? _

Silence.

The words and ideas he tried to send to them, of longing, of love, of hope for reunion, were more than their connection could carry. They bounced back against him, making him feel unheard and unseen by those he loved. He looked to the other bond, to his own mother, Nuju, and noted with dismay that it was just as weakened and unresponsive. More than likely… they all thought he was still waiting to be revived, if not dead forever.

He realized a second too late that this saddening discovery made him loosen his grip.  _ Oh slag-! _

His world was spinning end over end, and he felt like he was about to lose his lunch without ever having had the chance to eat it in the first place. He tried to find the horizon but had no such luck, and in a last-ditch effort, flung open his wings-

_ WHOOSH! _

The air caught him  _ too _ well, and flipped him onto his back as he fell, causing him to land on his back with his wings still splayed and his legs askew. He let out a long-suffering sigh as he waited for his vision to stop spinning, already picturing the ridiculous sight of himself looking like a first-time swimmer in the air as he tried to fly into battle.  _ That… could have gone a lot better than it did… _

_ Well.... at least there’s no way to go but up? _ He could hear the cheeky grin in Mata Nui’s voice and  _ knew _ that the latter was aware of the pun he’d made.   
_ I’ll stick to a stable surface for now, thank you very much… _ He finally stood up, regaining his breath and his footing and feeling sweat running down his back. He peered around behind himself as he felt another oddity, only to stare, deadpan, at the  _ feathered tail _ Mata Nui had given him. After a while, he contented himself with accepting the fact that he needed it to steer when he flew… as ridiculous as it might look and feel to have. 

Finally deciding he had been in the concealed chamber long enough, he looked along its walls to find a way out. It took a few minutes, but after he moved some oddly-placed wires, he managed to find the hatch he needed - and luckily, it hadn’t rusted shut after what had likely been long periods of disuse. He pushed it open with minimal effort…

...and immediately found himself mask-to-mask with Kopaka and Pohatu as the latter two Toa gaped at him.

“Um… hi. Funny seeing you two here…” He now felt sorely tempted to duck back into the chamber again. Pohatu chose to hide his face in his hands with a hysterical, disbelieving laugh while Kopaka smiled, slowly shaking his head back and forth, stunned.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Kopaka told the now-winged Toa. “If anyone had the willpower to be revived against the odds, it would be you, Matoro.” He lifted a hand and squeezed Matoro’s shoulder with a proud smile. 

“How  _ did _ you manage it? I… I can’t even fathom how… and you have  _ wings _ now.  _ Wings! _ ” Pohatu gestured to the limbs in question, looking flabbergasted.

“Mata Nui said I’d probably need them in the times to come. He has a feeling that this peace we achieved sadly won’t last as long as we hoped.” He shook out his wings a little before trying to fold them in against his back, relieved as they stopped taking up as much space. “I saw the two of you when you arrived, while I was in the Soul Fire. I would have reached out and let you know earlier, but… it seemed like you already had a lot of new info to deal with at the time.”    
Pohatu smiled in understanding. “I can see what you mean. We were certainly already reeling that day, to the point we were ready to flop into bed the first chance we got.” He suddenly smirked, giggling. “It looks like Nuju’s nickname for you is more accurate than ever now, little ‘dove’!”   
Matoro rolled his eyes, but still smiled at the joke. “I should have seen that one coming a planet away…” He cocked his head. “How have things been back home? Or… in everyone’s  _ new _ home, rather?”   
Kopaka chuckled. “We have a lot to catch you up on, it would seem. Shall we walk to the plaza and chat there, perhaps?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Their paces matched the entire way, the three of them feeling some of their unease slide away as they realized their numbers were not so few as they had once thought.

•••••••

This shared mindscape of theirs was empty, save for themselves and  _ him. _

Jaller and Hahli found themselves shoulder to shoulder, respectively glowing red and blue in the midst of an empty, black void. Off in the distance, they could see Matoro, staring back at them, gaze never wavering, glowing brighter than even they did.

They longed for that gap to shorten and close, to be able to reach out to him, to hold him, to reunite… but they couldn’t. Their arms and legs refused to move. They couldn’t even turn their heads, or aim their eyes elsewhere. 

Suddenly, he had burst into motion, sprinting towards them, leaning forward so far he looked liable to trip and fall flat on his mask. Enormous wings emerged from his back, pumping at the air as if he were a dove seeking flight. At last he was aloft, soaring towards them with incredible speed, arms reaching out to them even as they strained and strained against the binds holding them motionless. 

Then, in a blur, he was upon them, embracing them, and the binding was broken as they flung their arms around him in return, trying to hide the entirety of their awarenesses within his light and never let go. They were nuzzling each other, able to laugh again, smiling as joy swelled within their souls and left them fit to burst with bliss.

The mental image of Velika flickered between them, and Matoro loosened the embrace to look them in the eyes.  _ You’ve both seen the proof of his ill intent. Please, keep him at bay as best you can. _

_ We will! _

_ We promise! _

He smiled.  _ Thank you. We’ll have to part again soon, but I need you to keep staying strong for me.  _ He leaned in to kiss them one last time as the void around them dissolved.  _ I love you two. Don’t ever forget that. _


	7. Belief in, and Relief from, Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaller and Hahli keep an eye on a certain Matoran and avoid a certain Turaga.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new cover image posted in Chapter 1 was made by YT-Kingsidorak of deviantART!

The central marketplace of New Atero was awash with motion, sound, chaos, and color… but then again, that was its _normal_ state of affairs.

Every day the marketplace would form from hastily erected stalls and tents and booths, and Rahi for miles around would be driven to hide and cower from the noise. The weather was bright and cheerful today with some wind, stirring everything into an energized blurr of motion that paralleled the frenzy of the market’s travelers. Skakdi were bellowing over the noise of the crowd to draw attention to their wares. Vortixx were dressed to their best and calling out in singsong tones while beckoning to lure in potential customers. Steltians were using brighter decorations on the stalls themselves, directly addressing anyone who seemed remotely interested in their wares while passing. Agori, Matoran, and the rare Toa or Glatorian vendor would blend and balance the many tactics together, providing pockets of slightly calmer space that drew in customers like boats to the eyes of hurricanes.

Two Toa, however, were decidedly _not_ part of the bustle. Jaller and Hahli had seated themselves at a permanent café some time ago, and since then had only ordered the minimum to be allowed to stay. Whenever a server arrived to ask if they needed anything else, they would list a routine one or two items and promptly return to their silent watch. They only would pause to take a bite or sip of food or drink if it was necessary to not stand out to their target. Their gazes were focused on a single member of the crowd: Velika.

The strange Po-Matoran in question was currently busy perusing a large book stall, his back turned to the two Toa as he seemingly decided whether and what to buy. Only occasionally would he have his head angled in a way where Jaller and Hahli might need to use their drink-and-snack routine for fear of being spotted, but they made sure to do it whenever there was a chance, just to be safe.

Jaller squinted as he peered over at the Po-Matoran again. _He’s picking out another book… and buying it. I can see widgets being exchanged._  
Immediately, Hahli focused on the small pad of papyrus paper they had brought with them, pen at the ready as she listened to the bond to her mate. _Ready to write. Can you see the title?_

 _“Beings of Power, Old and New.” Seems to be a thicker volume._ Jaller was leaning on the rail of the café deck they were on, glancing at Velika on occasion to try and disguise his staring. _It seemed like it had images of both Spherus Magna and the Matoran Universe on its cover…_

 _So it’s continuing the trend…_ Hahli hastily scribbled down the book title her mate read to her, at the bottom of a list of several others, such as _Beings of Legend_.

 _Indeed… oh, slag._ Jaller cursed as he hastily picked up his food before acting more calm and taking a bite. _He almost saw me staring. Think I noticed just in time._

Ever since their dual shift guarding the Ignika, and their most recent dream of their mate, they had been intent on stopping whatever malicious plans Velika might have had. They still weren’t entirely certain if the snippets of their mate’s voice that they’d heard while on shift were truly him, or if they had been imagining things out of a mix of grief and overwork. Either way, they decided to believe in it with all they had, as a pillar of hope to cling to. It had finally given them something to focus on and eagerly work towards… along with a sense that Matoro would be able to see what they were doing, and be made happy by it.

Both of their comms pinged, for what had to be the tenth time that day, with an incoming alert from Nokama. They dismissed them, having looked at the first ones only long enough to know they were about monthly health exams that were due to be done that day. They didn’t have time for the exams when Velika could be watched, but knew Nokama wouldn’t take “no” for an answer… so they elected to simply not give any answer at all.

 _He’s leaving… and there’s no way we’d be able to cram ourselves onto that public transport after him without drawing suspicion._ Hahli’s shoulders slumped in dismay as she and Jaller watched their target leave their reach and view.  
_Well, look on the bright side. We have some more hints as to what he’s working on._ Jaller tucked the pad of paper away. _And while we’re here, we can take a few minutes to relax before we decide what to do next._

 _Agreed._ Hahli took that cue to sip from the drink she’d ordered, looking pleasantly surprised by its flavor. Apparently she had been so focused on their task that she hadn’t even properly noticed the taste of the items they’d ordered. _I’ll have to order this again if we come back here_.

Jaller smiled, glad to see she was finding a bit of joy and hope. _Maybe we can hope that Velika will hang out around this market again sometime soon._

 _Maybe…_ Hahli focused on taking another sip, the tension in her shoulders slipping away.

Unfortunately for them, it seemed a certain Turaga of Water wasn’t about to let them have any more time to relax. Turaga Nokama had just stepped out of a different public transport, enough purpose emanating from her stance and stride that several market-goers cleared a path for her in alarm, and the shopkeepers didn’t dare invoke her wrath. Her eyes scoured the market’s many occupants before alighting on the two Toa Inika. Immediately, she headed right for them. “Jaller, Hahli, the two of you come here this _instant!_ ”

The named Toa both _jolted_ in their seats, like children caught stealing pastries. Hahli found herself spit-taking as she caught sight of the approaching Turaga, and the two of them quickly tried to get up from their seats and walk away with their remaining food.

“Don’t you two try to run! Get back here!” They could hear Nokama getting closer behind them.

 _Slag! How did she find us?_ Jaller did his best to not push others out of the way as he and Hahli fled.

 _I don’t know, but pretend we’re not the ones she’s looking for and other people shouldn’t - GAH!_ Hahli yelped aloud, having found herself yanked  and twisted backwards by her shoulder armor. Nokama had caught up to them, and reached up with her trident-themed Turaga staff to hook onto Hahli’s armor and twist, drawing the water Toa down to eye level. On realizing Hahli was caught, Jaller stopped - he wasn’t about to leave her in the dust, as much as he dreaded what he knew was coming next.

Nokama grinned as she finally had the attention of the two Toa. “Hello, Hahli,” she said in a voice that seemed far too calm for someone who’d pinged her patients ten times that day with no response. “You and Jaller are _late_ for your _checkups_ .... and I notice you’ve been _ignoring my reminders._ ” Without leaving them the chance to reply or give any sort of rebuttal, she began _towing_ Hahli off to a quieter area that led out of the market, forcing Jaller to follow and wince at the stares and laughter they were drawing as Hahli protested the indignity of such treatment.

It took some time for the three of them to be out of the reach of the market’s waves of sound, and for Nokama to finally make sense of what Hahli was saying. “ _Stop!_ Just _stop_ already! We were _busy!_ We had to focus on something else!”

“Oh, _did_ you, now?” Nokama didn’t even look over at the water Toa at her words, likely believing it was all some made-up excuse.

“Yes, we _did!_ ” Jaller reached out to grab the Turaga’s shoulder, halting her. “We’re serious.”

Nokama paused, hearing Jaller’s sincerity. “...alright. I’ll hear you out.” She removed her staff from where it was hooked around Hahli’s shoulder, and stepped back, her expression still skeptical.

Hahli sighed in relief as she was finally able to get to her feet, doing all she could to brush the accumulated dust and grit off of her armor (with Jaller’s help for the parts she couldn’t reach on her own). “Promise you won’t automatically consider us crazy?” She seemed a tad nervous as she met Nokama’s gaze.

Nokama blinked, then decided to take a chance. “...I promise. Now speak up, unless you want to have this conversation in the clinic.”

Jaller decided to start the explanation, after sharing a glance with his mate. “We’ve… we’ve been having more dreams of Matoro than normal. And they feel… realistic. Like we’re connected to him again.”

“He always tells us he’ll be with us again soon,” Hahli continued. “And one time, it happened to us while we were guarding the Ignika, with him warning us not to trust the next person approaching. When we followed the… premonition… something happened to make us believe it was really him, reaching out.”

Nokama stayed silent for some time, hands on her hips and shoulders tense as she studied both of their gazes for any sign of insincerity. Finally, her gaze softened and her shoulders relaxed. “Alright… I believe the two of you. I’m going to need more detail, though. What happened when you felt the premonition? Who did it tell you not to trust?”

“Velika,” the two Toa said in unison, not even faltering.

She was stunned. “...Velika? The Po-Matoran who helped you on Voya Nui? Surely, you can’t be serious.”

“Unfortunately, we are,” Jaller admitted. “We stopped him from seeing the Ignika during the first night of our recent shift, and when he walked away, he dropped a strange device that got destroyed by a passing transport. It was like nothing we’d ever seen, and when we gave it to Nuparu, even _he_ couldn’t identify it.”

“After that, whenever we saw Matoro in our dreams, he would repeat his warning about Velika. We decided to start keeping an eye on him and see what he might be up to, which is why we were here.” Hahli gestured widely to the market they had left. “He was buying books, but left in a way that we couldn’t easily follow him. We even wrote down the titles of the ones he bought.”

Nokama blinked several times, seemingly stunned. “...I believe you. If what you’ve said is true, I think I may need to start keeping an eye on him myself from this point out.”

Hahli and Jaller both slumped with relief, letting out breaths they hadn’t even realized they’d been holding. “Thank you!”

“However…”

The two Toa both tensed, praying to Mata Nui that she wasn’t about to say what they feared.

“...you _still_ need to come in for your medical exams. The rest of your team have had their turns, and the two of you are _not_ about to escape them.”

“Seriously?!”


	8. Unease Stirring and Machines Whirring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Threats are making themselves known, and those on the Star are drawing closer to returning home.

The New Colosseum, as many residents of New Atero had heard in its construction or learned in school, had a room set aside for private discussions of public safety. The room had a window that provided a view of the entire city, to better see that everything was stable and not yet in chaos - and to remind the room’s residents it should hopefully be kept that way. Theoretically, it would only be used for Toa and city leaders to discuss the possibility of an immense threat looming in the future, a threat on the level of the fall of Metru Nui, or Teridax’s reign.

All of this meant that it was rather alarming for the room to be in heavy use now.

The Toa Inika were in the center of a chaotic whirlwind of activity, hunched over a map table in the center of the high-security chamber. Around them, Matoran, Agori, Glatorian, Toa, and other citizens rushed to and fro between consoles or hastily entered and exited the room, relaying any information they could find. Some were carrying piles of scrolls, others pads of blank papyrus sheets, some typing furiously on communication tablets.

The map on the table was large enough to encompass multiple schoolyard sandboxes. It was a mix of digital and physical, allowing its users to engage commands and place markers even at the center, where their arms surely could not reach. It was a map of their entire planet as they knew it - with the metal able to shift in the blank sections where cities might be built and new terrain might be discovered. Right now, it had numerous markers scattered across it, with varying colors and notes to identify them.

Hahli looked up from peering closely at the map, locking eyes with one of the Agori leaders, Raanu. “Are you certain the rumored sighting of the Golden-Skinned Being is confirmed true?”

Raanu nodded emphatically. “Ten witnesses saw him from different points, and all affirmed - without opportunity to be influenced by each other - that they had seen someone whose appearance matched what we know as the Golden-Skinned Being.”

“Ten entire witnesses....” Jaller peered down at the gold-topped marker that showed the sighting. “And none of them fell under his control?”

“From what I’ve read of the reports, all of the witnesses said the Being seemed almost… distracted. Or as if he were in a trance. His motor skills seemed to be highly reduced.” Ackar was peering at the marker as well, though he was still nowhere as hunched over it as the Inika - likely still nursing a bad back. “It seemed he may not have had the _ability_ to control them at the time.”

“Perhaps…” Jaller thought back to his team’s own time under the Golden-Skinned Being’s influence. Some tiny part of his soul yearned again for the blissful illusion they had lived under, with Matoro healthy and alive and with them. But he stamped it down with all of his willpower, not willing to be led astray again. He and Hahli already knew from experience the disappointment and heartbreak that would strike them again if they were ever roped under that spell a second time…

•••••••

 _He hadn’t bonded with them yet. Why hadn’t he bonded with them yet? Didn’t he want to have them close again? Didn’t he feel the pangs of reaching out to a connection that had been broken in the worst way the universe could imagine, feeling nothing but emptiness?_ _  
_ _Every time, he tried to be with the whole team, keeping them happy. They were all happy already. They had all been glad to see him, felt their nightmares slip away._

 _At last the rest of the team had insisted they were willing to let the trine have time to themselves. Jaller and Hahli had coaxed him to a comfortable room, nuzzled him urgently, made the bed perfect for him and held him close. They hadn’t even realized they’d already opened their heartlights, their souls straining and reaching out even as he reluctantly - why so reluctantly? Why? - bared his._ _  
_ _And when they had joined… there had been nothing. They had reached out between them, desperate to find something, anything… but they nudged against each other with no trace of him to be found, and the illusion had crumbled between them, leaving them reeling and more pained than ever._

_It had been an ultimate test of wills to free themselves and their team from the control of their captor, and to battle past his countless other oblivious prey. When they had finally returned to Metru Nui, staggering with exhaustion, Jaller and Hahli had needed to be rushed to an emergency clinic to stabilize their souls. It had taken all of Nokama’s effort and expertise to keep them alive...._

•••••••

“Jaller? Hahli?”

The two Toa snapped back to attention, shaking their heads to dispel the fog of their thoughts. They looked up and saw the others peering at them warily, then focused back on the conversation.

“We should try using tamed Rahi to track him. They seem to be largely immune to his influence, and some of our citizens can understand the Rahi language so we still understand the information,” Jaller suggested.

The others nodded, apparently accepting this suggestion as their best option. A few Matoran rushed away to relay the plan.

Hahli looked at another marker on the map. “Any response from the prison where Roodaka’s supposed to be kept?”

“Nothing yet,” a less seasoned Toa admitted. “There’s been utter radio silence from them. But that in itself is cause for alarm, considering they’re supposed to be equipped with the best communication setup possible. We’re keeping someone on watch at the monitors for any response, though.”

“What about the Element Lords?” Jaller’s eyes darted between several clusters of similarly-colored markers, marking multiple sightings to indicate possible patterns of movement. “Have we gotten any more recent confirmations of their locations?”

“None yet.” A passing Agori was the one to speak up this time as they paused by the map. “We’ve sent out word across every part of every communication network we have, and right now, we’re just waiting for any response.”

Jaller and Hahli shared a look of unease before returning their gazes to the map. It seemed that Matoro’s warnings were well timed, with such trouble brewing. They focused on the thin connection they believed they had felt to their mate, pulsing love to him and hoping, perhaps even praying that he could feel them. _You were right, Matoro… a storm is brewing. Please, whatever you do, wherever you are… stay safe._

•••••••

Trouble, it seemed, had also found and taken root within the Red Star.

As Matoro walked through its main chamber, he seemed calm to anyone who was viewing him. He had his hands folded politely behind his back, his wings folded primly. But there were tics one would notice if they looked close enough: his tail wagging side to side almost mechanically, like the pendulum of a ticking clock, the tips of his primary flight feathers rubbing over each other in worry like the motion of wringing one’s hands. His own eyes were keen enough that he had picked up changes in the Star’s routine. Far fewer Kestora were working on repairing the many bodies laid out on medical benches. For days now, only a scant few beings had been revived. Off in the distance, he could hear several of the Red Star’s workers hissing and snarling over some unpleasant matter.

He briefly paused in his purposeful stride as he drew level with the brazier he had rested in, turning to face it and dipping his hands into the flickering flames to chat with the souls inside. It was something that only he and the Kestora could do without pain, as they had found out the unpleasant way. A revived Matoran had desperately wanted to talk to her mate more easily, not patient enough to wait for her revival with the Kestora neglecting their repair duties. She had reached into the fire for her after seeing Matoro touch the flames with ease, only to find her hands severely burned. Luckily, her mate had been revived only days later, leaving her far more calm.

The souls all perked up at his presence, licking up along his arms in a tickling sensation as their thoughts bubbled through the air. He could feel that they were all decently calm - including the most newly arrived - but there was also a tint of impatience over many of them. “Why do they no longer revive us?” one whispered to him in concern.

“It has been days since one of them last scooped us out, if not a week,” another concurred.

“I am not certain,” he admitted, turning to look over the nearly-silent grid of repair benches that surrounded the brazier. “Have they all gone to the same place? I hear some of them.”

“Indeed. They have all been pulled away by their colleagues, sometimes in the very middle of welding, to that strange sector of the Star.” A Kestora’s yowl echoed through the air in frustration, as if on cue. “All of the ones who pulled others from their tasks seemed immensely upset. Some appeared to be among the original group assigned to the teleporter’s repair.”

Matoro hummed in thought, turning to peer over at where the Kestora could be heard. “I’ll make certain to go take a look. Perhaps I can talk some sense into them… _again._ ” He rolled his eyes, earning crackles of laughter from the entire brazier as he removed his arms from its reach.

When he arrived at the source of the commotion, he was surprised to see the Kestora acting… _recklessly,_ for lack of a better word. There were torn cables sparking all over the area, many of the Kestora holding the missing parts in their jaws or limbs. They seemed to be venting rage against the Star’s machinery, instead of repairing it.

Matoro noticed Pohatu and Kopaka standing off to the side, looking almost shell-shocked. He walked over to them, head cocked as they turned to look at him. “...how long has this been going on?”

“We’ve lost track,” Pohatu admitted, seeming to edge away from the chaos a tiny amount.

“We… would have tried to stop them, but considering how numerous and… well… displeased they are, we thought it might be wiser _not_ to encourage them to regain their old habits of disassembling others.” Kopaka was close to his mate’s side, watching the raging Kestora in thought. “As much as it’s nice to know we could be revived… the process of dying still isn’t pleasant.”

Matoro stroked his chin in thought. “Well… I’ve been through it once. I feel like I could handle going through it again for the greater good. And I think they might listen to me.”

“Good luck… You’ll need it.” Pohatu shook his head, obviously unable to believe that anyone would be successful at this task.

Matoro smiled in challenge, before stepping away from the other two Toa and into a more open space. He activated his comm-link and pinged every one of them.

Immediately, the Kestora all froze, recognizing his identity as the Toa who had proven his mettle against their entire population. They turned to face him, blinking in confusion as the diversion made their rage stumble. An immense number of acknowledgement pings reached him in reply as they waited to see and hear what he wanted.

He smiled, making sure to stay well-mannered and pleasant and hopefully have them echo that attitude. ‘I’m glad I have all of your attention. Admittedly… you seem to all be having trouble here. I want you all to succeed at whatever it is you’re trying to do, and I think I might have advice that could help you. Right now, try to focus on making the systems you’re working on _stable_ , at the very least. Then it’s time for all of you to pause for a break, and gather here.’

They all blinked once before turning back to their work, going about their new tasks a tad more calmly before they finished his instructions and gathered before him. They all seemed a tad nervous.

‘Thank you all. Now, I want you to all line up in order of identification, and send me the log files that show the records of the tasks you’ve worked on.’

They all peered at each other, before shrugging. A large batch of files reached him, and he perused them in detail for each one. Then, he moved along the line, dividing the Kestora into two groups. One had the Kestora who had been working for the least time on the teleporter, while the other contained those who had worked on it the most. He finally had them sorted, and turned to face both of the groups.

‘Alright. Those who have been working on the teleporter the longest, I’m going to assign you back to working on repairing bodies.’ At the burst of protesting text comms and upset hisses, he held up a hand so they would let him speak. ‘You’ve all been working too long on one task without success, and it’s been driving you to frustration, recklessness, and desperate measures. Focusing on something else for a while will allow you to be refreshed, calm, and ready to work more logically on the teleporter when it comes time for you to return here. You’ve been so focused on these cables that you haven’t recognized the unrest back at the heart of the Star. The flames are growing impatient.’

The Kestora in the reassigned group all grumbled, but eventually lowered their heads and sent text-pings showing they accepted the new task.

‘Those of you who have been working on the teleporter less…’ and here he gestured to the second group, ‘it’s your turn to take charge. You’re a fresh set of eyes who might see things the others didn’t pick up on, and fresh minds that haven’t been worn down into loops of frustration. You’re all like battery packs, in a way, rechargeable ones. Those of you sent to repair tasks are ones who need to recharge and can come back into use later. Those of you I’m assigning here are the undepleted ones ready to power this task.’

Now the Kestora all seemed to see the sense in his words. They burbled and grunted among themselves, then looked back to him, waiting for the signal to head to their new tasks.

‘One more thing…’ He sent all of the “recharging” Kestora a small bundle of logic puzzles over comm. ‘Before you get to repairing, spend some time solving these. They’re smaller tasks, but getting some smaller successes completed could provide a confidence boost that helps you feel ready for other tasks. Once I’m done helping here, I’ll let the souls in the brazier know you’ll be back on track soon.’

The air was filled with clicks and trills of curiosity, then… _excitement._ These were something the Kestora had never gotten to try before. They were much more happy now as he dismissed them to the repair plaza.

Matoro turned to focus on the Kestora who would now be repairing the cables. ‘Lead me to the original problem you were all frustrated by?’

Several of them nodded and guided him to a bundle of cables that seemed to have been the very first victims of the others’ rage. ‘One cable is not carrying power and signal when it should. We cannot find out which one.’

Matoro hummed in thought, crouching to peer closer at the cables. He closed his eyes, using his sense of his subelemental lightning to discover the guilty cable in question. He took only a few moments before reaching out and grasping it, holding it for them to begin cutting and splicing. ‘This is the one.’

They all trilled in relief, several coming over to help replace the cable he held. Before long, they were moving on to replacing and splicing together all of the other damaged cables, Matoro remaining with them to help the whole way.

At one point, a less experienced Kestora looked up at him from where it was repairing a cable with his help. ‘What do we do if this is not enough to fix teleportation?’

Matoro cocked his head, smiling warmly. ‘You celebrate the small victory you have achieved, and cherish it even as you move on to the next small task. You should be proud of what you’ve gotten done - it’s progress toward your ultimate goal, after all.’

The Kestora paused to consider his words, then nodded contently and bent its head, focusing on the work that awaited it.


	9. Familiar Face and Fixing Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ihu is found, and some flight is acheived.

As it turned out, mere cable repair was not anywhere near enough to get the Red Star’s systems back up and running. Matoro had helped the Kestora track down every single faulty cable to be found within the Star, and they had fixed them all together, but there was still no way to get people back to their loved ones as the teleporter remained stubbornly inactive. 

As a result, Matoro had taken to helping streamline and fix every part of the Red Star he possibly could. He went through the dozens of repair report files and worked to organize them for better reference in the future. He found some files that had been corrupted on the central console’s main drives, and worked to restore them from local backups the Kestora guided him to. When they found materials suitable for replacing older parts that may have been slowing crucial systems, Matoro helped carry them to where they were needed, his back straining all the while.

Eventually, he decided to follow the instructions he had personally given to the Kestora, switching over to work on reviving the Red Star’s many “guests” to give his mind a break. Right now, he was helping lift the head of one of the soulless bodies as a Kestora worked on repairing and healing damage to the neck. When no extra hands were needed during the physical repairs, Matoro would be the one to retrieve the ready souls from the brazier and bring them to their waiting bodies, then escort them off to a quiet corner with calming words and a reassuring presence so they could adjust to fully being themselves again. The revived often had difficulty sorting out their muscle memory and senses at first, and he was there to make sure they had someone to keep their freakouts from getting  _ too _ grand. When it came time for them to test their balance, they would use a hand against his upper leg, or perhaps his arm, to steady themselves until they felt they could keep their footing on their own. 

As the ice Toa helped another Matoran over to the corner, he was unaware he was being watched. A Ko-Matoran was leaning against the wall a small distance away, medium blue Akaku scope whirring in and out as he focused on the Toa. His expression was thoughtful, perhaps even wistful and longing, like he had seen something familiar he had thought he might never glimpse again. Every time Matoro got as close to him as the former’s path would allow, the unknown Matoran would seem to debate whether to give up his leaning and walk over, but fail to find the courage. During a break between revivals, he finally found the ability to straighten up and catch the Toa’s attention with a kind, “Hello, there!”

Matoro paused, looked up at his addresser, and paused again, a sense of familiarity equal to that which the Matoran had felt now settling over  _ him. _ He walked off of the main thoroughfare between the revival area and the quiet corner, cocking his head in curiosity as he approached. “Ah… hello. Did you want a word with me? I could take a break from revival work to talk for a while, but it would probably be better if we found somewhere more quiet to talk.” He gestured to where buzzing saws were cutting new armor to indicate the noises that could interrupt them. “I know of a spot not too far off that could work for us.”

“I would appreciate it,” the Ko-Matoran replied with a glad smile and a nod.

They headed away towards an area where some basic seats and tables were set up, each of them finding a seat of their preferred height. Matoro could tell from the Matoran’s build that he must have died some time before the fall of Metru Nui… perhaps he was a famous scholar mentioned in one of Nuju’s books. “Now that we’re settled down… my name’s Matoro. Who might you be?”

“My name is Ihu.” As soon as that name was uttered, Matoro tensed, armor flaring in shock and remembrance, but the Matoran failed to notice. “When I saw you, something… something about you reminded me of my mate, Nuju. Something I can’t quite figure out.” Ihu focused on his hands where they rested in his lap. “It’s been… difficult not being able to get back to him. We had only bonded just recently when… when the Nui-Rama attacked my chute…” The Ko-Matoran’s smile was much more sorrowful now, looking up at the Toa. “Did… you by chance know him? His body never showed up here.”

Matoro paused to consider his next words, then slowly nodded. “I… I did. Nuju… is my mother. And he told me many times about my father… who died in a chute accident.”

Ihu blinked as he tried to process what he had just heard. His brows furrowed in confusion, then rose as fast as fireworks as the enormity of this revelation hit him like debris in a chute. “You… you’re….” He turned to look Matoro directly in the eyes, as if searching for something, words evading him. “...you’re… my  _ son _ …?” He nearly fell off his bench entirely from the gravity of the news as he allowed it to rush over him, forcing Matoro to catch him before he faceplanted on the stone floor.

“Apparently so,” Matoro replied. “Mom, he… after losing you, he did all he could to keep me safe and close. From what he told me, there was a point where things had gotten dangerous enough I was nearly killed…” He summoned a small piece of ice and twirled it through his hands as he thought of the story he’d been told. “I’d been a few days old and restless, wanting some fresh air after being hidden in the safehouse for so long, and he tried to take me onto a knowledge tower roof in secret, where nobody would see, and I could get used to what he hoped would soon be my home district… but a blizzard stirred up, and someone who believed the propaganda declaring the Metru as enemies took a shot at me without him seeing them. He had to rush me to Nokama so quickly he collapsed the moment I was handed over.” The ice Toa’s hand ventured to his side, tracing a small scar that had faded from his Toa transformations and his revival. “He had to be even more secretive after that. When the Cataclysm happened, and the Visorak took over Metru Nui afterwards… Mom and his team all ended up mutated by Visorak venom, and turned into Hordika. Mom still kept me carefully guarded, hiding me away in a safe place and making his way back to me at every chance. We moved to this island outside of the domes, one they named Mata Nui, and mom raised me to adulthood there, teaching me birdspeak. When I got old enough, I became the one who translated his words for everyone else, since he insisted on only speaking birdspeak as a Turaga… at least, to others. He always made sure to speak normally to me in private, so I could learn both languages.” A chuckle escaped him as he swam through his earliest memories. “I remember he would keep me with him all the time whenever he went to the Sanctum in Ko-Koro. When I was still too little to even crawl, I would be kept in a bundle strapped to his chest, only my head peeking out. I felt so warm and safe and soothed all the time… something about the flickering lightstones and the barely-there noises was enough to make me feel like nothing in the world could possibly go wrong.”

Ihu’s hand was resting over his mouth in awe as he trembled, trying to imagine each of the described scenes. He blinked rapidly, his eyes beginning to brim with tears as his other hand reached out into the empty air in a subconscious attempt to bring his visualization of his mate closer. “I… I missed all of  _ that _ …?” His arm dropped back to his side as he looked back to his son. “When I… first woke up on the Star, all I knew was that I  _ needed _ to get back to Nuju. I went mad with my attempts to reach him, practically dying all over again of exhaustion. The few Matoran who had managed to hide from the Kestora needed to physically restrain me in order to keep me safe from myself. I was kept confined for  _ weeks _ .” He wiped his tears away and, with a melancholy smile, said, “What are  _ you _ like, though? I want to properly know you, as much as I can. I need to make up for all the time I’ve missed.”

Matoro rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Well… when I was old enough, I started hunting Rahi to provide for our village, Ko-Koro. Some of the Rahi I encountered I would tame or rehabilitate so they could be used to help my fellow villagers, or even Matoran from other villages. After we returned to Metru Nui, I rushed off in secret with some others to help save Mata Nui, and had… quite the adventure, landing me here in the end.”

As Matoro went into detail on all that had happened leading up to and during his Toahood, Ihu seemed utterly  _ spooked. _ He almost seemed ready to faint for the second time when his son detailed his sacrifice for the sake of Mata Nui. Once the retelling was done, he gulped and said, “To think… had Mata Nui not been able to revive you… we might have never met, and only ever known of each other through tales the starling told us.”   
Matoro did a double-take. “The… starling? Was that… your nickname for him?”

Ihu blinked in surprise. “He… didn’t tell you? We both had bird nicknames for each other. He used to skate on the ice beautifully, and it always reminded me of the blizzard starlings we would see zipping around the knowledge towers in their beautiful murmurations. His nickname for me was a bit more… wry. He always joked that I was ceaseless with my affection, almost to the point of annoyance. He compared it to the ice jays that liked to live in the acoustic ravines not far from the towers, where their courtship calls would echo enough to wake people up too early sometimes. That… and there was a time when I climbed the emergency escapes of one of his knowledge towers  _ during a blizzard _ to try to sing to him while he worked and surprise him… only to have to yell my throat raw to even be heard over the wind, and sound more like a Muaka whose tail was trodden on, a far from pleasant sound. Thus, the nickname of ‘jay’.” The Ko-Matoran smiled fondly at the memory of his reckless efforts. 

Matoro chuckled. “It’s… funny, is all. He never told me about the nicknames, but he gave me one… he used to almost always call me his dove, after the snow doves that would gladly perch on a Matoran’s shoulder to share warmth, but could make their own little snow dens for shelter.” He cocked his head. “Can you feel the bond to him still? Maybe even the slightest thread?”

Ihu shook his head in the negative. “I truly wish I could… I’ve tried and tried countless times to reach out to him over whatever trace of our bond there might be, but I can feel my attempts just fizzle out as they leave me. That was part of what nearly drove me mad when I first awoke here… it was like solitary confinement in a soundproof room.”

The ice Toa’s expression turned to a guilty one as he hummed in thought. “I… can feel a faint connection to my trine still, but it’s only a dim awareness that they’re still out there. I suppose Mata Nui helping to revive me kept me at least a little connected to them…”

Ihu smiled a bit sadly. “Are you happy? In your bond?”

His son nodded eagerly. “Before I had to sacrifice myself, during the short time when our bond was actually there… they were the happiest part of every day for me. They helped me keep my courage from faltering. I… I can’t wait to see them again, and to truly have our bond back.”

Both of them looked up in surprise as they heard the Kestora causing another commotion. “I think figuring out what the cause of that commotion is could most likely help us get home sooner,” Ihu suggested.

“Agreed.” Matoro carefully stood up, offering a hand to help his father to his feet as well. 

When they reached the source of the noise, they found the Kestora circling a particular area as if they were Takea sharks. One of them was holding a unique machine component in their hands, and all of them were glancing between it and an elevated notch in the wall, grumbling to themselves. It seemed an unexpected difficulty faced them yet again. Matoro stepped forward to see if he could help, and before long, all of the Kestora were staring at him at once. ‘Is there a new problem?’

‘If we could replace this component, basic text communications between the Star systems and mainland systems could be achieved.’ The leading Kestora peered up at the offending nook. ‘Unfortunately, none of us have been able to reach the location where it belongs.’

Matoro flared his wings as a reminder of his capabilities. ‘Might I be able to give it a try?’

‘We would appreciate any aid at this point.’ The Kestora handed him the necessary component and stepped back to watch.

The Toa peered up at his newfound target and judged the distance. Remembering his discoveries from his first attempt at flight, he began making clumsy power flaps, spreading out his tail for a bit more aerial balance than before… and found himself to be  _ much  _ more successful. He had coordinated his wings with each other. His torso wasn’t wildly off-balance as one side of him was higher and the other lower. His gaze locked onto the place where the new component belonged, and the rest of his body followed that line of sight. Before he knew it, he was hovering in front of the target location, and then clinging to it, slotting the component into position with ease. He heard a console blaring to life down below, several Matoran cheering from where they had been watching - and from the sound of it, his father was among them.

“That was amazing! You… you flew like a natural!” Ihu called up to him, clapping as he laughed in wonder.

“Thanks! I’m… just hoping getting  _ down _ from here will be as surprisingly easy…” Matoro aimed a look over his shoulder, before bracing himself and letting go. It was still clumsy, but this time, he found his wings achieving some coordination as they steadied him to be roughly right-side up, and he slowed his descent from there with rapid flapping, landing with only a faint amount of pain from the impact. “Phew… should we send them a message?”

Ihu, the rest of the Matoran, and even the Kestora stepped back to clear a path from him to the revived console. “The honor is all yours.”

Matoro blushed, but smiled in gratitude as he approached the keyboard. He briefly paused, before typing out a simple message, making sure to include a word that many of their old friends held near and dear.

‘Unity has been found. Can you hear us?’


	10. First Contact and First Strike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A connection is made, and an attack is carried out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a long bout of writer’s block, this chapter is finally here!

Nuparu, for quite possibly the first time in his many centuries of life, was  _ stuck _ on a tinkering project, unable to move forward with it or prepare for future steps in any way.

Right now, he was in the same room as a console that they had reasoned must have been meant to communicate with the Red Star’s onboard systems. They had carefully copied all of the software and settings within it to an external drive before removing the console from the ruins of the Great Spirit Robot’s head, and hauling it out to be reinstalled in New Atero for easier use. He was leaning on a buttonless part of its dashboard with one elbow, head propped up by his hand as he pondered what could be left to do to get something to  _ happen. _ His eyes swept left and right, up and down as he looked to see if there was even so much as a significant dent in the console, but found none.

He pushed away from the console and began pacing back and forth in the decently-sized room, pondering what else he could possibly do but drawing nothing but blanks. He had provided it a good enough power source to run. He had run every diagnostic possible. He had checked the software for any possible glitches and found none. And, judging by the error message, the communication pings he sent could reach the Red Star just fine… but the Red Star wasn’t  _ doing _ anything with the pings. Its deeper systems weren’t willing - or perhaps weren’t able - to process the messages and let someone on the Star know they were there.

The only option that seemed to remain was waiting, and hoping the people on the Star would realize the problem was even there, much less how to fix it. Luckily, it seemed Mata Nui or the Great Beings were looking favorably upon them that day.

He heard a notification ping from the console, and paused in his pacing, mid step. Slowly, he pivoted on his heel to stare at the screen, and the new words that had suddenly appeared on it - an incoming message. 

‘Unity has been found. Can you hear us?’

Nuparu gaped, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperated victory. “FINALLY!” He frantically opened an urgent-tag group comm to the Turaga, the planet-bound Toa, and the rest of the New Atero leaders. “Come on, please let them start picking up already…!” He felt almost ready to faint in relief when he felt people accept the connection… though apparently he’d failed to notice the lateness of the hour due to how wrapped up in his work he had been. 

‘Nuparu, what would drive you to send an  _ urgent  _ comm at  _ this hour _ …?!’ It sounded like Turaga Dume had been woken up in the middle of a pleasant sleep… and knowing said Turaga’s temper, he was  _ far  _ from pleased about it. Judging by Raanu’s grumbling over his end of the comm line, he was in a similar situation and mood. Nuparu couldn’t help but notice that he heard Dume’s and Raanu’s voices echoing over each others’ comms… as if they might have been spending a night together. He would have to ask around about that later.

Vakama had to yawn before finding the ability to talk. ‘Is… something wrong…?’

‘I’m sorry for this being so sudden and badly-timed, but the Red Star’s systems are  _ finally  _ responding to the console! They sent us a message back!’ Nuparu didn’t even realize he was hovering a foot off the ground from excitement, too busy making his glee echo down the comm line.

There were countless startled exclamations from the various people on the comm line, and he swore he heard several falling-out-of-bed  _ thuds _ as many people exclaimed that they would be at the console’s room as soon as possible, dozens of them hanging up at a time. It didn’t take long for him to hear dozens upon dozens of rushing footsteps approaching the room, and he had to clap his hand over his mouth to stop his own urge to laugh when he heard some people trip over their own feet on the way. Before he knew it, everyone was flooding into the not-quite-large room, dragging countless chairs with them so they would all have places to sit. It seemed that the chairs had come from a wide variety of sources, for some were mass-built folding chairs, others were cushioned and ornate and more suited for personal offices, and still others seemed made for large meeting rooms. The crazy mixture only helped to increase the chaos of the scene as people squabbled and bickered for the best position in order to see everything that might be happening. 

Nuparu took the chance to make absolutely certain his team and the Turaga had seats in the front. He could see that Turaga Nuju had been dragged there reluctantly, still barely paying attention to anything that was happening around him as his grief weighed him down. Jaller and Hahli looked like they had been sleeping more than usual, but they also looked incredibly uncertain whether to hold on to hope as they stared up at the large console screen. Everyone was murmuring and discussing amongst themselves as they read the message that had finally been sent to them, all seemingly deciding what to do next.

Suddenly, Jaller and Hahli looked to the Turaga, the small lights on their comm units blinking as they seemingly pinged their elders with an inquiry. Then, when the Turaga - save for the still-distraught Nuju - all turned to them and nodded, the two Toa stood and walked closer to the console keypad. A hush suddenly fell over the room as everyone turned to watch the two of them, waiting to see what they would do, and what would result.

Hahli braced her courage and typed the first response. ‘Loud and clear, Red Star. We’re overjoyed to finally hear from you!’ Everyone present seemed to let out a breath they hadn’t even realized they were holding as they finally made progress towards reuniting with those who had been lost.

Jaller took the next turn to type. ‘What’s the status of everything up there? Is the cycle between the new planet and the Red Star going to be sustainable?’

There was a pause as the person at the other end decided what to say, then more text appeared on the screen. ‘We cannot say for certain if the original teleporter systems built into the Star are repairable and able to be adjusted for the new target yet. It’s possible that even once full functionality is restored, we may need to keep some people present on the Star to keep an eye on its designated operators, the Kestora.’

Jaller and Hahli shared another look before focusing on the console again. Their hands clenched before Jaller found the courage to send another question. ‘Are you able to answer questions regarding who has been revived so far?’

This time, the pause before the response was long enough that some of the people in the room returned to worried murmuring, fearing the connection had been entirely lost again. Finally a reply appeared, leaving everyone all the more conflicted on how to feel. ‘I fear that we cannot be entirely certain if the communication systems could handle the full list of those who have been revived. It may malfunction again, and after having only just repaired it, I don’t believe it would be wise to risk it breaking beyond repair next time. While a partial list could be sent… it might cause strife as people argue who should hear news of their loved ones first, and push to be able to properly talk to those whose names are given. As unfortunate as it may seem, I fear the phrase “The best compromise is when nobody’s happy” somewhat applies here. Once the teleportation systems are ready and start being used, the system may have recovered enough to send a sufficient number of names, and people will be more calm knowing there isn’t much longer to wait before proper reunions. We should wait until then.’

The shoulders of the two Toa Inika sagged as they stared at the refusal to send detailed news. But after a while, they seemed to resign themselves to the results they’d gotten, and Hahli returned to typing at the keypad. ‘We understand, and we thank you all the same for contacting us. We wish you all the best of luck in putting things to rights, and please, keep us updated on your progress.’

‘Thank you. We hope you all fare well in kind in the meantime. Let us know if there are any worrying developments to be wary of on the planet. For now, we’re signing out.’ The connection went idle right after that final message was sent, and the room was filled with an incredible stillness.

The water and fire Toa at the front of the room stepped back, looking to each other for some semblance of guidance. Their bond was echoing with pain, but neither one of them was able to muffle and lessen it for the other, instead leaving the despair to bounce back and forth between them like some demented game of table-ball. They had been so close to finally having a certain  _ yes _ or  _ no… _ but now they would have to wait all over again for a day that could bring just as much pain as it could bring joy. They shakily stepped closer to each other and embraced, needing to be reminded that some part of their trine was still connected to each other, still able to support each other despite the emptiness that stood in place of their third.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered as a frantic Matoran burst into the room. Their breath sounded as ragged as a violently torn cloth, and there was a helter-skelter pile of papers grasped in their arms. “Turaga Dume! Tura- _ GAH!” _ The frazzled messenger had managed to trip over his own feet, faceplanting as his papers were flung everywhere. Immediately, everyone near him moved to help him upright again, regathering the scattered papers into an even more disorganized pile than before. 

“What’s the matter, young Matoran?” Dume inquired, bewildered as he walked closer to the air-starved Matoran. “What has you rushing here so madly?!”

The Matoran took a few more deep gulps of air before rasping out, “Bad news.  _ Very _ bad news. A response finally arrived from Roodaka’s prison… someone power-surge-fried nearly the entire electrical system in a preplanned attack. Roodaka escaped, and now nobody knows where she might be… or who gave her help from the outside.”

Immediately there were panicked gasps and exclamations from the crowd, and everyone hurried to file out towards the war-planning chamber, leaving their chairs behind without realizing it. Jaller and Hahli immediately rushed to the familiar room’s map, looking at the bullet points marking all that had happened in such a short period of time.

“This doesn’t look good…” Hahli noted aloud. “First someone murdered Karzahni. Then we found the remains of something possibly  _ equally _ as powerful as Karzahni, if not even more so. The Golden-Skinned Being was seen acting strange, almost as if not acting of his own will. We know Roodaka’s escaped from her prison now, and she’s likely been gone since we first lost contact with the prison. And just yesterday…” and here she pulled over a report they’d all reviewed upon receiving it the day before, “we heard news that distant settlements have been attacked in a style that doesn’t match any tactic signatures we know.”

Jaller nodded as the full scope of the situation was made clear. “Things… definitely aren’t looking good.”

They heard doors burst open again, and everyone’s heads snapped upwards to see an Agori messenger now bursting in, carrying her own stack of papers. “We finally have confirmed data on the recent movements of the Element Lords,” she explained as she headed right over to the map table and set the papers on top of it. “It’s bad. They’re all converging towards the same area, and any time one of them corrects their course to head elsewhere instead, they all do the same, so their destinations will match. We don’t know what they might congregate to do, but their course corrections have matched with almost  _ eerie _ perfection.”

Dume stared at the vast map before them as if drowning in his thoughts. One of his hands tightly clutched his Turaga staff, the other seeking to grasp one of Raanu’s hands in solidarity and reassurance. “Well… I’m afraid that this settles it. We must prepare as if we were headed towards war… because every sign so far insists we might very well be.”


	11. Relaxation and a Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A connection is finally restored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry. I am SO SO SO sorry for the long wait. I can only blame this one's "sibling" chapter over in Monsters and Mind Control for delaying the tandem upload, because this chapter has been done for a month at least.

Matoro had been in a near-constant state of activity since the Star’s last contact with the main planet. Many of the Star’s residents weren’t even able to say with certainty whether the Toa Inika of ice had _slept_ since then. 

At the moment, he was zipping to and fro through the “skies” of the Red Star interior, taking every single opportunity that he could, no matter how minute or major, to help someone. Back and forth he flew over bystanders’ heads, sometimes dipping low a bit clumsily or landing recklessly and causing a Kestora or a citizen to yelp in surprise at the close call.

Kopaka and Pohatu were among those watching his ceaseless activity from the ground, leaning against a building and only turning their heads and eyes to track his movement. As the blur of white crossed overhead once more, a downy feather came loose and fluttered slowly down to land atop Kopaka’s scope. Kopaka shook his head the slightest amount to dislodge the trespassing feather, smiling in wry amusement as the less seasoned ice Toa kept up the rapid pace. “He certainly inherited Nuju’s workaholic tendencies… though I’m not sure whether to be worried over that, for his sake.”

Pohatu chuckled aloud, with the slightest hint of a worried note caught in his throat. “I’m not sure, either. He doesn’t seem ready to stop on his own any time soon. I mean, I’m eager to get home and see everyone again, too, but at this rate he’s going to need the Kestora to repair his body and revive him again before he even leaves the Star.” 

Kopaka’s mouth curled into a playful smirk - something many would have thought to be a rare expression on him, but which Pohatu had seen many a time, shared like a secret between the two of them - and looked to his lifemate. “Should we see if we can talk to him long enough to have him stop for now?”

“Definitely.” The two Toa Nuva began to jog after their decided quarry, seeing a place where he was likely to land. “Hey, Matoro!” Pohatu called out. “Maybe-”

Before they could even reach his earshot, Matoro had lifted off again, his feet having barely touched the ground before he returned to the air. Kopaka gaped at him before facepalming, while Pohatu simply laughed in disbelief.

After finally removing his hands from his mask, Kopaka sighed and switched to his own Kanohi Kakama. “Looks like we’re going to need to try a bit harder than that if we’re going to catch his attention.” He cocked a brow as he looked over at his mate. “You up for a race?”

Pohatu’s laugh deepened. “You need to ask me that?” They zipped away in tandem, leaving a couple whirling cones of dust in their wake.

•••••••

Matoro was glad he had developed some small amount of muscle memory for how to use his wings. He was able to keep himself aloft and roughly travel from point A to point B at a decent pace, but he was still far from stable in his flight, and anyone who was watching could see it clearly. Right now, he was flying close to roof level to make use of the warm air rising out of road vents below him, carrying some extra sleeping rolls and mats in his arms so he could help set up a temporary place of rest for the newest people being revived. As he flew, he noticed a pitter-pattering that seemed to be following him, but dismissed it as his imagination and focused on trying to land less clumsily than usual. It wasn’t until after his feet had touched the ground that he heard one of the sources calling out to him.

“Matoro!”

He turned to look as he handed off his cargo to a waiting Kestora, seeing Kopaka and Pohatu skid to a stop after the use of their Masks of Speed. “Oh. Hey, you two! Something the matter?”

Kopaka took a few steadying breaths before replying. “We noticed you’d been working almost nonstop lately.”

Matoro blinked in surprise and cocked his head as he considered the comment. “I… suppose I have, haven’t I?” He turned to help a Kestora balance a pile of items in its arms. “I’m not sure I can really help it, though. I just feel really eager to get home, I guess. I miss everyone.” It seemed like they were already losing his focus as his work reclaimed it.

“Don’t you think you might need to take a break?” Pohatu suggested. “Even you can’t just keep working endlessly.”

The suggestion was met with a chuckle and a shrug. “I feel fine. I’ll make sure to give myself a nice, long rest once everyone’s finally reunited. We still need to figure out why the teleporter can’t calibrate its aim, and work to fix that, but in the meantime, this gives me something to do.”

“All this stress from constantly working isn’t going to help you figure out a solution, though,” Kopaka pointed out. 

Pohatu gave a cheeky smile. “Not only that, but if _Nuju_ was willing to scold you for overworking yourself, it’s likely Ihu would be just as disapproving.”

Matoro seemed to puff up in an instinctual attempt to intimidate them… but all it managed to do was make him look ridiculous, with his feathery wings fluffed out like someone had run him through a drying cycle. “You _wouldn’t.”_

Kopaka’s gaze slid to the side, to where a certain Ko-Matoran was busy working on cleaning his Akaku’s lens. “He’s right over there. Pohatu and I could easily just walk over and tell him. We could even shout over to him from here and let him know without leaving this spot.”

The other ice Toa puffed up even more, before his gaze slid to where Kopaka’s was aimed and he paused. Finally, after some consideration, he relaxed, his feathers settling flat in resignation. Where Nuju might have scolded him, he would have likely had to deal with saddened _disappointment_ from Ihu, and he wasn’t sure which was worse. “Fine… I’ll take some time to rest. Just for a little bit, though.” He set down the small amount of cargo he was holding, and headed over to a bench to sit down for a bit on a sturdy crate. The moment he sat down, his wings draped limply down to either side of him, showing that he had been putting a fair amount of effort into keeping them folded against his back, or using them to fly. 

“See? It’s not so bad to take a rest every once in a while,” Pohatu said in encouragement. He and Kopaka both sat down on the large crate as well.

“You _know_ it’s a good time to rest for a bit when someone _known_ for being a speedster is encouraging you to slow down,” Kopaka pointed out.

Matoro smiled, letting out a small laugh to concede the point. “True… true.” His eyes turned up towards the “sky” within the star, his smile turning slightly sad in longing for home. 

There was silence between them all for a while, as they all took the time to calm down and reflect. After some time, though, Kopaka noticed Matoro’s eyes darting around and lingering on various items - some spheres of scrap metal melted and shaped for better storage, some toppled cargo containers, and old, discarded shovels and mallets. 

“Even in your Toa form I know that look,” Kopaka said with a chuckle. “You’ve gotten an idea, likely as simultaneously ridiculous and brilliant an idea as the time you realized bamboo projectile disks could be used as sleds.”

Matoro smiled both slyly and sheepishly - a difficult look to pull off, but one he somehow managed - and stood up to turn and look at both of the Toa Nuva at the same time. “I was just thinking that it looks like this area would be good for a simplified Kohlii match, between the three of us.”

“Oh?” Pohatu’s attention was immediately caught, the Toa of stone having been missing the sport. 

“I could see it happening,” Kopaka mused. He and Matoro simultaneously gave Pohatu a pointed look.

“What?!” the latter objected, acting oblivious to what they expected of him. Finally, he rolled his eyes and sighed exaggeratedly, placing a hand on his heartlight and lifting the other in an oath. “Alright… I _promise_ not to use my mask during the game. I won’t cheat.”

Matoro grinned cheerfully. “Great! We can all work to set up the few things we need.” He immediately headed to gather the shovels, hammers, some adhesive strips, and a scrap-metal sphere, the other two working on pushing the cargo containers so they were positioned a bit more optimally for use as goals. By the time they were ready to play, their setup efforts had drawn a fair amount of attention. Quite a few Matoran began sitting on any items they could around the “ring”, hoping for the best view possible after so long without getting to see a Kohlii match. Other Matoran Universe residents seemed less excited, and more curious about the source of the commotion, since they weren’t used to the sport.

The ball was placed in the center of the area they’d set up, in the middle of a pavement pothole that the Kestora had yet to fix. The three Toa backed off a small ways, nodding once before clanking their playing staffs together in a salute. 

_“Play well!”_

As one, they had three pillars of their elements burst into existence under the ball, sending it flying into the air between the three of them, to the cheers of much of the audience. The game had begun. 

Matoro immediately brought the hammer-end of his Kohlii stick to block Kopaka’s swing for the ball, using the collision as a pivot-point to bring his scoop up and send the ball rolling towards the boundary that stretched between Kopaka and Pohatu’s goals, where he would score more easily and they would score with equal difficulty to each other. He then used the point where the three of them had clashed and pulled their clashing sticks down low enough to vault over, grinning as his strike at the ball had given it enough momentum to bounce off the street curb and back towards him to meet halfway. Seizing the opportunity, he took a powerful swing with the hammer of his Kohlii stick, before punching the air in triumph as the ball swiftly soared into Pohatu’s goal.

Their audience cheered, and Matoro took the time to do a ridiculous bow or two to them all, smiling as he managed to make them laugh. He turned to go towards Pohatu’s goal and bring the ball out for a second use.

“Hey! Sir! Toa! Up here!” 

He paused before entering the goal, looking up at some Matoran who had climbed atop the overturned storage container. They had brought a wire wastebasket up with them, and seen fit to attach a small paper with Pohatu’s name written on it. “What are the two of you doing up there?”

One of the Matoran grinned proudly and pointed to the wastebasket. “We’re scorekeepers, sir! When someone scores, we put the ball they scored with in their basket to keep track of points!” 

The second Matoran nodded eagerly, pointing to Matoro’s goal, which had Ihu and another Ko-Matoran perched atop it with another labeled basket. “Hand them the ball so they can mark that you scored!”

Matoro blinked in surprise before shrugging uncertainly and walking over. “O...kay then.” He headed over with the ball, comming an amused-looking Kopaka and Pohatu as he went. ‘It feels absolutely _bizarre_ to be called “sir” like that. So often I still feel like I’m just a Matoran, like one of them.’ 

Pohatu just let out an amused chuckle. ‘Don’t think too hard over it. I’m sure many new Toa have felt the same way for some time.’ The stone Toa went over to another point along the edge of their makeshift arena and retrieved a new Kohlii ball for the three of them to use, returning to the center at the same time that Matoro did. “Are the two of you ready?” At their nod, he placed it in the center, and another round began.

The game continued on for some time, a larger and larger crowd gathering around them over time as word spread. While Matoro may have had much more experience playing Kohlii due to having been on his village’s team, his wings still felt fairly ungainly against him, and his coordination found itself clashing with muscle memory to leave himself equally matched to Pohatu and Kopaka. If any of the three of them ever held a lead, it was only for a few scant minutes, the other two swiftly catching up.

It seemed that this cycle was about to continue unhindered, as Kopaka moved to score against Matoro’s goal. When the senior ice Toa took his swing, Matoro leapt to intercept with his body - only to find himself hit hard in the chest and sent flying back to collide with the edge of his goal, the back of his head impacting with the metal loudly.

 _“Ooh…!”_ The entire audience winced or cringed in sympathy at the sight and sound of the impact, many sucking in a worried breath through their teeth. Pohatu and Kopaka immediately walked over to figure out if Matoro was injured in any way, and to take him to a Kestora for a look-over if the need arose.

“Matoro? Are you hurt?” Pohatu called out, the slightest hint of worry audible in his tone.

“I’m fine… I’m pretty sure I’m fine…” Matoro groaned out, rubbing the back of his head tenderly where the impact must have bruised it. He suddenly blinked, seemingly stunned as he stared out into the distance at one of the Red Star’s many telescopes. He burst to his feet, darting over to an approaching Kestora and frantically comming them as the others watched in mixed confusion and worry. ‘I need to know - when the teleporter systems fail to calibrate, does the data make it seem like the teleporter cannot calculate the dimensions of what lies before it with proper detail and certainty, or does the process fail before the data begins collecting?’

The Kestora blinked, briefly thinking to itself. ‘...the former. What is the purpose of your inquiry?’

‘I need to look at the teleporter again. I may have an idea of what could be wrong, and how to fix it.’ The winged Toa was all but pacing in place at his eagerness to test his theory.

The confronted Kestora still seemed uncertain, but finally acquiesced with a nod. ‘Follow me.’ It headed at a fair speed towards the chambers that housed some of the Red Star’s mechanisms, not noticing Kopaka and Pohatu following them along with several Matoran.

Once they entered the chambers where the key mechanisms were hidden, Matoro immediately moved to the part of the chamber closest to the teleporter controls, following the wall so he could trace the path of the teleporter’s workings. His fingers hit a strange, barely noticeable seam in the wall and he paused, tracing it with his fingertips until he found a high handle and pulled. A new chamber opened up, and out of it poured countless shards of what almost seemed to be broken glass. 

“What in the world?” Kopaka uttered, taking a step back with Pohatu and the Kestora. “What happened here?”

Matoro picked up a larger, less sharp piece of the “glass” from where it had flowed out around his ankles, peering at it carefully. “This… must be what’s left of the teleporter’s focus crystal. Gaardus, the one who brought you here, must have been a “species” so unfamiliar to the Star’s workings that the strain of his teleportation shattered this crystal!” 

The next thing the other two Toa knew, Matoro was rushing past them, back out to where Ihu and other Matoran were still milling around the Kohlii arena, leaving the Nuva to follow him while the Kestora that had been with them worked on hastily cleaning up the shattered debris. He skidded to a stop upon reaching his father, pausing to catch his breath. “Where… where are the spare focus crystals for the observatory telescopes kept?”

Ihu blinked in surprise at him, but quickly came to his senses. “I-I’ll show you! Right this way!” Now the Ko-Matoran astronomer was the one leading the rush, realizing his son’s urgency was sprouting from hope, rather than panic.

It took them almost no time to reach the right storage area, Ihu guiding them to the center of the chamber that housed the crystals they sought. Matoro immediately ran towards the largest ones, grinning as he realized they would all be the exact size needed to fit in the teleporter’s vacant space. “These all look just the right size for what we need!”

Ihu blinked in surprise. “We’ve never been able to find a telescope in the star that these would fit in. Are you saying you’ve finally figured out their use?!”

His son nodded eagerly, circling one crystal in particular. “The teleporter seemed like it had a crystal of its own, but it shattered when Gaardus left. If we replace it, everyone might finally be able to reunite!” He gave the crystal a testing push from one side. “Kopaka, Pohatu, see if your Pakaris might be enough to do the trick.”

The two named Toa nodded solemnly as they switched masks, standing to either side of Matoro before bracing against the crystal. They pushed, and strained, but the crystal refused to budge.

Pohatu gave a hard exhale as he and Kopaka stepped back. “Even the two of us aren’t enough for it…”

Matoro’s eyes gleamed with something familiar that teetered on the razor’s edge between stubbornness and sheer willpower. “Then we need more help.” He climbed up to a catwalk above them, following it over to a balcony by the building’s entrance. He could see dozens of the Star’s residents milling in their normal routine or staring at the building in confusion at what the three Toa were doing. Putting his fingers to his lips and filling his lungs until they strained, he gave the sharpest, shrillest, loudest whistle that he could muster, immediately drawing the startled attention of everyone below. 

“We are on the precipice of taking quite possibly the biggest step forward in the restoration of the Star and its purpose!” he called out to them all, voice echoing through the silenced streets. “I cannot say to you with certainty that it will be the final step, nor how many steps may lay waiting beyond it. I cannot say how many steps will still remain until reunion with those who have loved and lost us, even after this star is set to rights. But what I can still promise you, as I have so often promised the Kestora, is that every step forward is a success all its own, to be acknowledged and admired. We would not have gotten to this step had the Kestora not come to their senses. We will not reunite with those below unless this step is taken. This step is not one that I and my companions can take on our own. _Will you aid us, to the last soul among your ranks?!”_

A resounding cheer echoed upwards from everyone standing below, the crowd surging towards the building to investigate what needed to be done.

Matoro returned to where the crystal was kept, taking his position between Kopaka and Pohatu once more as he braced against the crystal. Newcomers crammed themselves together along the length of the crystal to find their own point to push from, waiting as they heard the sound of a large door opening to better allow the crystal to exit. Silence fell… then…

“HEAVE!” Matoro called, pushing with all his weight and will. He heard the call echo down the line in both directions, countless beings of countless species working as one to complete this goal together. He felt an exhilarated rush as the floor of the storage chamber began slowly moving past the bottom of his sight. They could _do_ this. It would be slow, it would be strenuous, but much of the rest of his efforts had been such already, and this would be just as worth it as everything that came before. 

He spared the briefest glance to either side of himself. Kopaka and Pohatu once more were making use of their Masks of Strength, the glow of their use nearly as intense as he had sometimes seen from the Avohkii. Just past Kopaka, he could see Ihu pushing with all his might, expression set with determination. 

 _Your father had a willpower like I’d never seen before when he set his mind to a task…_ He remembered his mother Nuju saying it many a time, on nights when grief would claw at the Turaga with particular ferocity, and they would need to tend the injuries to his soul despite their stinging. They’d found that speaking about Ihu had always set things right sooner than any other method. _You inherited that from him, without a doubt._

 _Perhaps I really did inherit it,_ Matoro thought to himself, focusing back on his pushing as others gave up their position for new volunteers to take their place. The air was thrumming tangibly with the hope and longing of everyone stranded, their souls crackling within their heartlights as they tested and haggled their limits.

“Clear the way ahead!” he called out, ignoring the strain upon his voice. “Push with all you have! Push for those who have mourned us! For those who grieve us!”

Even as every other position along the crystal changed shift for a fifth time, Matoro, Kopaka, Pohatu, and Ihu never faltered. The strain did not matter… only the things that awaited them afterward did.

 _For all the future may hold for us,_ thought Kopaka and Pohatu.

 _For Nuju_ , Ihu vowed.

 _For Mom, Jaller, and Hahli!_ Matoro swore.

It suddenly became apparent that they had reached the chamber where the crystal belonged, its metal lip preventing them from pushing it any farther.

“Lift as one!” Matoro called, his voice cracking. “One! Two! Three! _Heave!”_

They pushed upwards against it, feeling it rotate as gravity grabbed the other side, and finally the crystal slid and locked into place, glowing and humming with energy.

‘Full system capacity restored,’ the Kestora sent to all comms. A cheer rang out from everyone present, strangers hugging strangers in the need to vent their joy.

Matoro stared at the crystal, panting in shock. “We… we did it,” he breathed cautiously. When nothing appeared to prove him wrong, he allowed himself a smile and a larger amount of volume. “We did it. _We did it!”_  

“We did it,” Ihu affirmed, smiling proudly up at him.

“We need to contact the Turaga,” Matoro suddenly said, snapping back into focus on the last few steps. “Once they send us good landing coordinates, we can-“

The teleporter abruptly thrummed to alertness, its mechanisms rotating and twirling as the machine did what it was supposed to. A cacophonous sound echoed through the maintenance chamber, before everything went back to normal… save for Matoro’s gut feeling that something very, _very_ wrong had just happened.

The Kestora were all wide-eyed, one of them sending him a private comm. ‘Unknown parties have input their own coordinates and made use of the teleporter. Intent: unknown.’


End file.
